


Breathing under Water

by Signy_noor



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: AU, Even POV, Even is struggling, Even s so stupidly in love with Isak, Isak is a swimmer, M/M, Misunderstandings, We're inside Even's head a lot, learning to love yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 02:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signy_noor/pseuds/Signy_noor
Summary: Even is coming out of an episode and meets Isak at the worst possible time. He craves love, but has none for himself.To get Isak's love, he will have to learn to accept and love himself.





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovely people!
> 
> This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic. I have been reading on AO3 for a long time, and feel so inspired by the many talented writers here. So, it is with great humility that I post this story. 
> 
> It is about falling in love, messing up and coming to terms with the hand you have been dealt in life. It’s about learning to love yourself, even the darkest corners of your soul, and gain control, cause only then will you be free. 
> 
> Mental illness is different for everyone suffering at its hand, and I kindly ask you to see this story for what it is. A fictional story. I have suffered from depression myself, and know many who do. So that part is based on my own and their experiences. But I have no first hand experience with mania, and hope not to cause anyone destress or hurt with my depiction of it. The focus of this story is not the illness itself, but coming to terms with the way it affects a life. 
> 
> If you can be anything in the world, be kind. Always.
> 
> Please comment and kudos if you like what you read, it fills me with joy.
> 
> XOX  
> Signý

The aftermath of a depression is a bitch. I would know. This is my third one in three years. Heia meg! 

So let me introduce myself. My name is Even, I am 21 years old, live with my mom and dad in central Oslo. And yeah, I have bipolar disorder. Sometimes it seems like that’s all I am. I know it’s silly, because no person is only one thing. But yeah. It can get a bit overwhelming at times. Well, a lot overwhelming. I guess it sometimes is all I am even though my mom tells me that that’s not true. 

A lot of people tell me a lot of things. “You are not your illness”, “you have control of your life and your future”, “you need to follow a routine and this will be perfectly manageable”. 

I hear them, really I do. And it makes sense I guess. But when you just feel another thing it’s just exhausting to try and prove those feelings wrong. 

I know logically, that taking my meds, getting exercise, enough sleep and bla bla bla will give me more control of my illness and prevent the frequency and severity of it, but all those rules and guidelines just make me feel like I have no control at all over my life. 

I don’t do those things because I chose to do them. I do them because if I don’t something MIGHT happen, that MIGHT not have happened if I didn’t. It’s too speculative to make sense to me. Well, it does make sense in my logical brain, just not the emotional. And guess which part gets to call the shots in this poor excuse for a functioning human body? 

I have tried to stick to a routine, I really do try. It starts out fine, I feel stronger and in control, but then something happens that messes up the routine. A party that gets a little too late and a little too crazy, an exam that stresses me out or just youth laziness.

And then I fall, again and again. I start losing control having too much of a good time living on impulses and doing all the things I normally don’t allow myself only to crash hard and end up in bed for several weeks filled with shame, anxiety and just feeling like I am not worth the space I take up in the world. 

Everything just stops making sense. 

Mom pampers me. I hate it. I guess I like dad’s approach better. He insists that we keep doing what we normally do, make dinner together on monday nights when none of us have other obligations, making me chop up all the ingredients for whatever crazy recipe he found on that food blog he won’t stop babbling about every chance he gets. 

He never pushes me to talk about how I’m doing or try to lecture me on the importance of positive thoughts and physical exercise as tools to help you out of a depression. He just allows me to slowly adjust to the normality of everyday life in my own pace. I love him for that.  
I love my mom too. Just as much, but when it comes to getting out of a depression she just doesn’t give me what I need. I know it’s probably because it hurts her so much seeing her only child lying there, not wanting to live life if this is what it has to offer me. 

She tries to stay positive and encouraging, suggesting things we could do to get me energized and better, but all it does is annoy me, really. Because it’s fake. I can see the hurt in her eyes even when she smiles and I can see the dried tears on her cheeks. 

I wish she would just admit that I am a burden and that I hurt her. But she denies it when I ask her. Says I’m the best thing that ever happened to her. 

She does have one thing going for her though, her hugs. Sometimes I can’t bear her’s or anyone else’s touch due to my anxiety. Their hands and fingers leave my skin burning and their bodies close to mine sends waves of panic and claustrophobia through me. But when the anxiety does not rule my body, my mom’s embrace grounds me. She even crawls into bed with me and cuddles me while I sleep. 

I know I’m a grown-ass man who shouldn't be cuddled in bed by his mother, but I need it to stay connected to the real world. She strokes my hair and holds me tight. And I never feel safer than when I sleep next to her. She really is the best mom I could ask for. More than I deserve.

So, now I’m here. In the kitchen bashing stalks of lemon grass for some thai soup dad’s excited about. He’s bobbing his head to some pop song on the radio, frying garlic and spices in a pot. We haven’t really talked much while cooking. Just getting on with our tasks, moving around each other in an orchestrated manner. I am a bit caught up in my head and dad doesn’t seem to mind the lack of chit-chat.

I’m considering going back to school next week. Seems like it’s time. I have more energy and don’t sleep during the day anymore. And I even managed to write my professors today and ask what I missed these past weeks. Hopefully, I will have the energy to look through some of the abandoned work this week. 

I started media studies at the University of Oslo in the fall and just managed the first semester before I lost control, right before my 21th birthday. 

I love University. Finally, I’m doing something in my life that I chose, for me. Not for my illness, my parents, society or who the fuck ever. My professors know about my situation and I am allowed to miss a lot more lectures than others and still keep my place in the class. 

I kind of hate this special treatment, but I also know I would not get anywhere without it. I suppose I should be grateful. I am! But then again, it’s just another reminder that I am different than anyone else my age and has to constantly apologize and ask for favors just to function in society. 

I am brought back from the deep corners of my mind when I hear the front door slamming. Mom is home from work. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold wind outside but she has a great big smile on her face as she gives first dad, then me, a kiss on the cheek. 

“How are my boys?”, she asks. 

“Great, great! Even and I are just finishing up dinner. It’s this thai soup I have been wanting to try out forever. It’s so simple to make but it should taste like a busy street in Bangkok, nonetheless.” 

Dad is so excited about food and cooking. He keeps rambling about spices and different types of coconut milk until mom gets that signature look on her face, reserved only for him. A fond smile and glinting eyes. 

They are exhausting really. I mean, aren’t you supposed to grow out of the whole in-love-puppy-dog-eye phase after 25 years of marriage? 

They sometimes act like fucking teenagers in love and it’s just… just embarrassing. Sometimes dad chases mom through the flat, tickling her while she squeals and begs him to stop, through fits of laughter. 

I secretly do envy them, though. Having a partner in life, someone to share things with, the good and the bad, I would like nothing more. But I don’t think it’s in the stars for me. I think that if I managed to find someone to love they would either get tired of my shit or just get bored to death from all my routines. But I’m allowed to dream. And being held, tickled and even kissed by someone who loves me for who I am would just be the essence of happiness for me. 

“Even?”

Wait, is someone talking to me?

“Huh?”

“Hello sweety, where were you?”, mom has got that concerned look on her face. I know it by heart. She tried to hide it with a smile, but I know better.

“Nowhere, just thinking. What were you saying?”

She tilts her head a bit. And then I know what’s coming. 

“How are you feeling?”

I close my eyes and feel the irritation and exhaustion rising. I take a deep breath and can’t help the exasperated tone that follows.

“Mom…”

“Sorry, I just... “

“Mom! just stop. I’m fine okay?!”

She takes a deep breath too, looking hurt. Her eyes wide with concern. 

I don’t mean to snap at her and immediately feel like shit. The worst and most ungrateful son ever. But I just feel smothered.  
She doesn’t realize how exhausting it is to talk about your feelings all the time when they’re shit. I could tell her I feel better, but still pretty shitty. All that will do however, is set her off on one of her speeches about how everything will get better, one day at a time and all that crap. So desperate to fix my problems and take my pain away. 

I know she can’t help it. I guess that’s what you do when you love someone. Try to heal them. I want to heal for her, for dad, even myself. I am working so hard to get better, but I just can’t control it. I can’t control my emotions and they have me in a tight hold. 

Mom breaks eye contact with me and starts emptying her shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. 

“Do you need a ride after dinner?”, she asks with her back turned to me. I can hear that she is trying to sound casual, but failing somewhat. Her voice a little too high and cheerful.

“Yeah... sure. Thanks”

We have dinner. It is actually really tasty. I remember to tell dad. He is thrilled. I love that I can make him happy like that. Just by saying that the food is great. I feel like I just make my parents sad or worried most of the time, so I just like that I can do this for him.


	2. TWO

I have decided to try and do something new for exercise. That is why mom is now driving me through Oslo to the public swimming pool.

I have always liked being in the water. The feeling of being weightless is like no other. Just floating around feeling light. Almost like flying. If I could choose a superpower, it would definitely be flying. The fantasy of having that amount of freedom is thrilling and a little bit dizzying.

I have long limbs and sometimes feel a little clumsy and uncoordinated but that feeling goes away when I glide through water. It's the closest I get to experiencing weightlessness.

My favorite thing about being in the water is the way everything goes silent when you descend beneath the surface. Every noise just dies. Ironically enough, right now it’s the only place I can breathe. Well, not literally, but like my mind and soul.

It's another world beneath the surface. The rules are somewhat different. Both physical and mentally. Nobody expects anything from you while you're down there. You're just free. I feel free. I love diving down as far as I can get and then turn my front towards the surface, so I’m looking up through the water. The way the light catches the small waves on the surface turns them into a works of art. Glistening, soft and bright.

I’ve thought about doing some kind of underwater filming for my next school project. I just haven't found the angle, the theme or plot of it yet. It's all just colors, images and feelings at the moment. I’ll figure it out. It always comes to me when I least expect it.

It’s late in the evening and not many people are at the pool. I’m relieved. I had hoped it would be rather empty as it is a quarter to nine on a monday night. I can’t really deal with a lot of people just yet.

There are three guys in the lanes closest to the changing rooms meaning business. They switch between doing lanes, spotting, coaching each other from the edge and taking a breather sitting on the edge kicking the water with their feet.

I walk past them to a lane in the middle of the pool that only has an elderly woman swimming in it. I’m thinking her pace is somewhat at level with my ambitions. I’ve not been exercising for three weeks now and need to start slow.

I dive into the water with an attempt at an elegant leap from the edge. The cool water wakes my body up in seconds as I stroke my way through the clear blue mass. I breach the surface with a gasp for air.

God, I missed it. Being in the water.

I start to find a rhythm and do a few lanes. I am faster than the woman with whom I share the lane. It's alright though because when I get close to her I am pretty beat already, so I decide to take a break at one end. Being in bed for weeks seriously weakened my body.

As I catch my breath my eyes wander to the swimmer dudes in the first lane. Two of them are sitting on the edge talking, a dark-skinned guy with a buzzcut and a round faced guy with semi-long blond hair. The third one is leaning against the starting block looking at his phone. He has dark curly hair and seriously bushy eyebrows. He looks up from his phone and his face splits into a grin and he yells.

“Fucking finally!”

That’s when I spot the newcomer.

And.

OH. MY. GOD.

I seriously don't think you should be allowed to wear a square legged speedo when you look like THAT. Someone, well, that someone being me, might actually drown from shock.

He has golden curls hugging his ears and a sharp jaw. His shoulders are broad and his chest and six pack are like chiseled in stone. My eyes roam his body because apparently I have no shame when it comes to staring at almost naked strangers at the public swimming pool. But fuck. I just can’t help myself. He is so beautiful. And… My eyes wander down his chest over his abs, that I absolutely do NOT get the urge to lick, to the defined lines over his hips guiding, no, pulling my eyes towards the bulge in his trunks.

Fuck he's hot. Sexy, lickable, lovable, spend-my-life-worshipping-your-body-handsome. My brain is having a adjective-induced meltdown.

I didn’t know I had a type. But the fuck I do now. It's him. All of him. Every lickable inch.

I swallow hard and try to compose myself just a little, when I realize that my dick has finally caught up with the situation, softly throbbing in my trunks. It's absolutely no use to fight it. My eyes have found their lighthouse and I find myself unable to look away.

His thighs and arms are muscular and I can see them flex when he hugs each of his friends in turn.

And then it happens. The last blow to my already wobbling house of cards that I call my chill.

He laughs.

With all his body, at something the guy with the bushy eyebrows said. His chest is shaking, abs straining and he throws his head back exposing his neck, curls bouncing around.

And me… I am a goddamn mess. Absolutely mesmerized. I just keep staring like some creep, well not like, I AM a total creep right now.

I thank whoever is listening anywhere in the universe that I am not manic at the moment. I would have gotten out of the water with no regrets and just… I don't wanna think about what I would have done, but it would have been so embarrassing that I not even my mom’s hugs would be able to pull me out of the following depression.

Suddenly, something makes me flinch hard and I snap my neck around. The elderly woman has managed to do two laps and has returned to my end in the time I have been ogling a stranger two lanes away. She has her hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry dear. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

Yeah, well NO SHIT! Have YOU seen the golden God that just entered?, I want to answer but luckily stop myself.

She looks a me with the same fond and worried expression I have seen on my mom’s face countless times.

“Yeah. I’m just…”

I turn my head back towards the golden, chiseled guy only to find that he is gone. A small embarrassing groan escapes my mouth as my eyes search for him in the water.

“Hello…”, the lady squeezes my shoulder again forcing my attention back to her.

I shake my head a little to try and regain control of my thoughts and body and look at her.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you”. The excuse just tumbles out out of habit.

She then smiles. Giving my shoulder a final squeeze before letting go.

“Alright dear. Don't overwork yourself. Remember to breathe.”

Easier said than done with a raging hard-on rising in my pants and nothing to conceal it with, only escape route going straight past my embarrassing reason for it.

“Yeah. Thanks. I will.” I manage to throw her one of my rehearsed smiles.

She seems content with my answer and pushes off the edge of the pool leaving me and my critical situation down south to myself.

I am a little bit shocked by it to be honest. I haven’t had a boner in a month now and of course this is just my luck. Me and my body never seem in sync. My brain is fucked and makes me do crazy shit only to shamefully regret it afterwards, so why wouldn’t I get aggressive hard-ons in the public swimming pool on a monday night?

I rest my head in my hands and try to regain a little self control. Breathing in. Then out. Concentrating on the feeling of the cool water around my body. I have been stationary for a while now I realize. I have goosebumps all over my arms and I suddenly feel cold. Must be the adrenalin leaving my body.

I kick off the edge of the pool and dive under water. I need to move to keep warm.

Everything goes silent when I descend. I can think again. I tilt my head to the side and try to make out the bodies swimming in the lanes at the end of the pool. Trying to get a glimpse of the curly haired boy. They’re too far away for me to see them clearly.

I don’t make a conscious decision, but my body still glides under the lane separators getting closer to the first lanes. They are empty now, the people previously occupying them having gotten out of the water. I resurface when I am in the lane next to the boys and pant from lack of oxygen at the edge of the pool.

When I get my breathing under control again I remove my goggles and wipe my sore eyes. I’m getting tired and the chlorine isn’t helping with my dry eyes.

I turn around in the water, no longer staring into the high edge of the pool. My eyes immediately betray me and go wandering the edge alongside the pool. And there he is. Staring right back at me. I almost choke on the air I’m breathing.

He is walking along the edge of the pool in the same pace as the dark-skinned boy is swimming. His eyes flicker to his friend in the water but return to me a second later. He then stops walking, tilts his head a bit pulling in his chin and offers me a smile that takes my breath away.  
He is looking straight at me through is eyelashes, with that smile. It’s almost a smirk.

God, I must look so stupid staring at him like this. Creeper-alert! But shockingly he doesn’t seem to mind me looking at him. He looks down his body for a second, definitely smirking now. His eyes find mine again eventually, and he lifts his eyebrows suggestively, biting his lower lip, as if asking “like what you see?”.

I almost combust at the sight. I feel my cheeks flush and I know I must be so red in the face right now. What the fuck. Is he for real? Is he messing with me? I wish I knew what to do. I have been caught red-handed, staring at him with probably the dumbest expression on my face. It is like a slap across the neck, bringing me back to reality. I avert my eyes and frantically put my goggles back on and dive under the water fleeing to the other end of the lane. Very mature and composed reaction, I know.

When I reach the end of the lane I cling on to the edge of the pool, resting my forehead against the cool tiles banging it into them softly a few times with my eyes closed.

“Get your shit together. For fucks sake.” I murmur to myself.

“Hei!”

And then he is there. The boy with the chiseled jaw and blond curls. Right next to me throwing me an award-winning smile.

My body does a little jump and I let go of the edge of the pool and almost go all the way under the water. I grasp for the edge, but only find it when my mouth and nose is already under the water resulting in me swallowing some and coughing like crazy, bringing tears to my eyes.

“Shit”, the boy laughs and oh what a sweet sound. I could listen to him laugh forever.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He gets out between the most adorable giggles.

He then reaches over the lane separator and pads my back. Which only makes me cough and choke even more. His hands are big and warm on my cold skin and when his touch lingers a little, gliding over my back and shoulder after the last pad, I feel shivers down my spine. Little electric currents making my skin buzz and yearn for more.  
It is a little bit embarrassing how touch-starved I am. But having your mother as your only cuddle-buddy for a month will do that to you.

I eventually regain some control over my breathing and manage a choked “He-ei” in return.

He then reaches his hand forward to shake mine,  
“Hei, I’m Isak”

I take his hand in mine and he squeezes it in his warm, firm glip, his eyes never leaving mine.

“What’s your name?”, he then says tilting his head a little to the side. And God, does that make him look even more adorable. I cannot physically stop staring into his eyes. They are the colour of the forest in late summer and I want to lay down on a soft bed of moss and get lost in them forever.

I realize I’m still holding on to his hand shaking it stupidly, going on God knows how many seconds by now, just reveling in the feeling of his skin on mine. I will my hand to stop shaking his with great effort, staring at it, as if that will actually help me gain some control of this particular body part.

“Uh, Even, my name is Even”

“Hei Even” He says again, with that gorgeous smile. And I don’t think I ever thanked my parents for giving me that name, I probably should, because the sound of it coming from Isak’s lips makes it the only thing I could ever imagine wanting to be called.

“The pool closed 5 minutes ago. Don’t know if you’re aware?”

“Uh… what?”

Wauw, amazing comeback you dumbass. Seriously get a grip. He is just a person talking to you. A really hot person talking to you. Looking at you. Looking at you looking at him. OMG STOP!

Isak starts smirking again. Damn him. How can he be so chill and charming. Can’t he see I’m fucking choking here.

“Yeah, my bros and me just get special treatment from the manager cause we’re so hot that we attract people here. Customers pay the bills you know.” He says with a playfulness in his voice. And then he winks at me and I feel like I’m drowning above the water. Is that even possible?

“Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware. I guess I lost track of time. I’ll get out of here. Just give me a second. I need to find my water and towel.”

I am definitely rambling but I can’t seem to stop the words from spilling out my mouth. I am totally flustered and my face probably has the color of that dark pink sweater I got from my mom’s friend last christmas, while I frantically start to look for my things.

“It’s down at the other end. By lane 5. Can I swim there? No, I’ll get out of the pool now. Sorry to disturb you. I didn’t mean…”

“Isak, dude! Stop fucking with him. Look at the guy. He doesn’t know you’re kidding.”

The guy with the bushy eyebrows is there, extending his hand to me while rolling his eyes at Isak, who is just barely containing his amusement over my flustered self.

“Hei man, Jonas” He introduces himself. “Don’t believe shit he tells you. He has a really weird sense of humor.”

“Oy!” Isak counters immediately, finally looking at Jonas instead of me. “I am the master of fun and jokes. You just don’t understand great comedy when you see it!”

“You’re kidding?” I manage to say when his eyes are not boring into my soul.

Isak is laughing again. And Jonas facepalms, shaking his head at him, clearly embarrassed by his friend’s attempt to fuck with me.

“You are kidding” I conclude stupidly when he continues laughing.

“Of course I’m kidding.” He manages to convert his laughs to little giggles. And then he is looking at me again. He has a fond almost pitying look in his eyes when he continues.

“Did you seriously think a fifty-year-old pool manager could get away with hiring three nineteen-year-olds to attract customers with their semi-nakedness? Come on. That’s wrong on so many levels.”

“The fuck do I know! It would be a pretty solid business-strategy! You are pretty hot and I would…” I manage to stop myself before I completely humiliate myself. Or well. I think the damage is done judging from the look on his face.

His face splits into the most amazing smile and he tilts his head down a little looking at me through his eyelashes.

“You think I’m hot?”, he says with that playfulness again smiling at me like he’s never heard anything more pleasing in his life.

Jonas pads him on the back, rolling his eyes again before swimming away shaking his head with a “Lykke til, Isak”.

“I didn’t say that…” Even I don’t believe myself, so I stop myself talking and close my eyes for just a second. I just need him to not stare at me for one second to be able to think.

“I think you’re hot too, Even”

And wait, WHAT.

My eyes snap open again and he is looking at me. He seems a little insecure for the first time, biting his lower lip still looking at me through his eyelashes.

“You think I’M hot?” I say in total disbelief because it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

Isak lets go of the edge of the pool circling a little around me keeping himself floating.

“Well, yeah? Have you seen you?”

“Uhm, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Isak is shaking his head in what looks like disbelief.

“Fett samtale”, he laughs, when neither of us has said anything in a while.

I manage an awkward smile in his direction. He is still paddling in semi-circles in front of me.

“So…”, he says looking over his shoulder towards his friends who are now out of the pool standing by the door to the changing rooms. “Can I have your number? Maybe we can hang out sometime?”

My heart jumps a little in my chest. Until now my heart rate has been at 'holy shit', but that question just gave it an extra kick.

“Sure, yeah. We can hang out sometime…” I manage a little shyly. “If you want to…?”

“I want to!”, he interrupts a little too eagerly. He seems to catch himself, regaining his cool composed aura. “I want to”, he repeats with a genuine smile.

Then he swims to the edge of the pool pulling out his phone where it is bundled up in his towel and hands it to me. I dial my number in, half panicking that I will drop his phone into the water in the process. But he doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that I am holding his iPhone 8 ten centimeters above the water in a giant pool, so I just dial my number and hand it back to him, carefully. He is smiling while he saves the number.

“Thanks, Even.” He then says still looking at his phone. “I’ll text you.”

When he looks up from his phone he gives me a searching look, squinting his eyes a little and says with a smile, “I’ll definitely text you.”

Then he gets out of the pool and joins his friends. Before he disappears into the changing room he turns around and gives me salute and a wink.

I take a deep breath and disappear under the surface. I dive all the way to the bottom and let most of the air leave my lungs so I can stay down there for a while. I have no fucking clue what just happened.

Did I just get a date with a cute guy?  
Shit, did I type the right number?  
Did he say he thinks I’m hot?  
He thinks I’M hot??

My lungs start to burn and I make it to the surface with one stroke. I look around. I am the last one in the pool.  
I get out of the water and make my way to the middle lane where my water bottle, towel and phone is lying in a small pile on the floor, as if nothing totally reality-altering just happened. I can’t help the small giggle that leaves my mouth as I shake my head and pick up my stuff.


	3. THREE

Mom is waiting in the car when I emerge from the pool. She’s listening to Katy Perry, singing along, really getting in to it and turning to me when I let myself fall onto the passenger seat.

 

I know I have a stupid smile on my face. I can’t really help it. And like she’s feeding on it she starts serenading me dramatically turning up the volume.

 

_🎵 You held me down, but I got up, hey! 🎵_

 

She actually throws her hands into the air hitting the car ceiling with her hands when she shouts “HEY!”

_🎵 Already brushing off the dust 🎵_

 

And now she’s brushing off imaginary dust from my shoulder. While I am trying not to laugh so hard right in her face. It’s really hard to keep a straight face when she gets this ridiculous. My ridiculous, lovely and amazing mom. Who will do just about anything to see me smile. I truly don’t deserve her, after all I’ve put her through over the last few years.

It’s been a long time since I smiled this much and I can’t remember the last time I laughed with a heart full of fondness and joy. But when she continues to belt her lungs out while doing her dramatic choreography I just can’t hold it in any longer. It sputters out of me, loud and all the way from my stomach. God, this woman.

 

_🎵 You held me down, but I got up_

_Get ready 'cause I've had enough_

_I see it all, I see it now_

_I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter_

_Dancing through the fire_

_'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar_

_Louder, louder than a lion_

_'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar!🎵_

 

At this point I’m singing along, giving it my all because, what the hell! Katy Perry is not normally my thing, but I guess my mom has rubbed off on me, and the song is just undeniably empowering and catchy. So when she puts the car in gear and drives on to the street, I throw my head back and sing along with everything I’ve got.

 

_🎵 Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh_

_Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh_

_Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh_

_You're gonna hear me roar!🎵_

  


By the time we pull into the parking lot by our flat the mood has shifted into a comfortable silence, where we just sit, looking out the windows of the car with small smiles on our faces. It’s nice to have this back. The fun and carefree mom.

 

She tugs a rouge strand of hair behind my ear. It’s grown pretty long while I’ve been down and without product it’s soft and hugs my ears and forehead. She smiles at me with fond eyes and kisses my cheek. Then she gets out of the car and walks towards the flat door with little skips in her step.

 

I follow close behind her. Kicking my shoes off in the hallway and greeting my dad with a wave as I pass the living room door. My mom is already in his lap, kissing his face frantically with a blinding smile on her face, to his great amusement.

 

“Did you win the lottery or something?”, he asks her, laughing in between the kisses. “Even, what did you do to your mother?”

 

I just shake my head at them and continue on my way to the bathroom where I hang my wet trunks and towel.

I brush my teeth and get into bed. My mom changed the sheets for me, so it has that fresh-bedding smell. I love the feeling of getting into a clean bed after a shower. I feel light and unburdened for the first time in what feels like forever.

 

Maybe the clouds are clearing for real now. I hope they will. I almost forgot what it’s like, not to feel like shit all the time. It’s scary how my brain just adjusts to the new normal when I’m depressed. Some days, I don’t even think about how shitty it is, to feel so shitty. I just drift around in a haze, not reflecting at all on my feelings. Like I forgot what it’s like to be happy and therefore, don’t register the opposite feeling, being unhappy.

 

When I get to the surface again, and think back on my weeks in bed and inside my own head, I sometimes feel horrified because I didn’t realize at the time, just _how_ shitty I felt.

 

I get scared because I feel like ‘depressed me’ is a completely different person. The way I think and act is distorted and sometimes terrifying. When I’m in it, I’m not scared because then it all makes sense to me. But afterwards, when the fog has lifted I am scared of the thoughts and actions that governed my life at the time.

 

Not that the mania is any better, but for me it doesn’t last as long as the depression and often, I can’t remember my thoughts and reasonings for doing the things I do, while I’m riding the high. The mania itself is a wonderful place to be. I can do _ANYTHING_. Or so I seem to think. When I’m lucid, I’m mostly very happy and full of energy and it truly is pure happiness. But coming down, down hard is never worth it. Ever.

 

The depression is one thing that in itself truly sucks. But the worst thing about coming down from a high, is the return of my conscious self. I can see myself from the outside again and am overwhelmed with embarrassment, shame and self loathing for the things I have done.

 

When I am purely manic I can lose my temper in seconds. I go from bubbly happy to raging hysteric in the blink of an eye. Most of this, I don’t remember in detail afterwards, but flashes of things being thrown and doors being slammed flash before my inner eye and fill me with dread and burning shame.

 

Someone once told me that the brain shuts down memories to protect us from traumatizing events, like car crashes and murders. Maybe that’s what my brain is doing when I get psychotic. My mind doesn’t have the decency to be fucking normal and function properly, but at least it will give me the gift of not having to relive those moments of utter ruin .

 

Perhaps it’s for the best. If the thoughts I have while I’m depressed can scare me as much as they do I don’t really want to know what goes through my head when I’m full blown manic.

 

My thoughts drift to Isak. The beautiful boy who has no idea what he got himself into when he asked for my number. He looked so excited and happy when I put my number in his phone. I wonder what he expects to find in me. We barely talked, owing to my inability to form sentences in his company. That might be a problem if we go on a date. Shit, I have a date. Well, maybe. He might regret it and not contact me. I didn’t get his number after all.

 

As if the universe heard my thoughts staring to spiral out of control my phone buzzes underneath my pillow.

 

**00.21**

 

_Hi Even. Hope you made it home okay?_

  


My stomach twists in the sweetest way. He actually texted me. And didn’t even wait until the next day, or three days, or whatever stupid rule american romantic comedies from the nineties taught us, is the appropriate time to wait.

  


**00.22**

 

_This is Isak by the way._

 

_From the pool._

 

_I was nice seeing you earlier._

 

_Hope you liked what you saw as well?_

 

_Wow, I’m rambling._

 

_I’m like the master of awkward texts.😜😎_

  


My phone keeps buzzing as he sends text after text. My heart is soaring.

  


**00.23**

 

_Shit. I just saw the time. You’re probably sleeping. I hope I didn’t wake you up. 🙈_

 

_You didn’t wake me 😊_

 

_Hi._

 

_Phew! Sorry about the late texting. I couldn’t get you out of my head so I just figured I’d check if you fake numbered me or something 😅_

 

_I wouldn’t do that._

 

_Because I did like what I saw 😉_

  


I have no idea where this boost of confidence comes from. It’s just easier hiding behind my phone I guess. Not having his damn beautiful face in front of me, being a cocky little shit, is liberating. It makes me a little more confident and seeing Isak a little desperate just gives me enough confidence to be blunt.

  


**00.25**

 

_Are you trying to kill me? Don’t say stuff like that!_

 

_What? I just answered your question 😇_

 

_Shit. I guess I walked into that one myself._

 

_But I guess I liked the answer, so it was actually a really good question!_

 

_Let me guess. You’re the master of asking questions?_

 

_HEY! I AM the master of asking questions._

 

_Maybe… Nah. I think you should practice a bit more._

 

_Wow. That just hurt my feelings._

 

_Oh I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know you felt so deeply for your question-asking skills._

  


Did I just call Isak BABY?? OH. MY. GOD. I’m out of control. This guy is seriously making me throw sense out the window. I’m too much. Too extra. Too everything. I knew this would end badly. I just hoped I could have enjoyed it a little longer.

 

My phone has been silent for several minutes. I am banging it to my forehead mumbling “stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…”.

 

I definitely scared him of. _Well done,_ Even. The best thing that happened to you in months and you managed to ruin it in what? _Nineteen_ minutes? Well, that’s just depressing. In its literal meaning.

 

Then my phone buzzes. And I almost drop it on my face in surprise. I fumble with it and manage to open my messages. And there he is. It’s not over yet. I could cry.

 

**00.42**

  


_I have another question for you then._

 

_Fire away_

 

_Wanna have coffee with me tomorrow?_

  
  


I turn around and actually scream into my pillow like a teenager.


	4. FOUR

I try to open my eyes. But my eyelids are heavy. So heavy. I can’t really feel my body. I’m all up in my head and it’s weighing me down. 

 

I can’t exactly remember what I dreamt last night. It’s all a blur of people and emotions and I’m exhausted even though I just woke up. 

 

Sometimes my dreams feel so real and stressful that the sleep that was supposed to offer me rest and a pause from all the inputs my brain has to process every day just ends up increasing the stimuli and draining my energy, before the day has even begun. 

 

This night was one of those nights. 

 

I’m lying on my back with the weight of the world on my chest. Compressing my heart and lungs. Slowly suffocating me.

 

These mornings are the hardest. When I have had a taste of what it’s like to be back to my normal happy self just to be plummeted back into the fog.

My therapist keeps telling me not to let it hit me so hard when it happens. “It’s important to maintain a positive and optimistic self image”, she says. That, “getting better and surfacing after a depression is a continuous process, where sometimes you regress a bit before you can be rid of the bad feelings this time”. 

 

I know she’s right, but it still suckerpunches me in the gut every time. 

 

The worst thing is that I set myself up to being happy and enjoying life again, beginning to hope that this was it for now, that I’m finally myself and free again. But then it’s suddenly not. Suddenly, the hope is gone again. The happiness is gone and everything is grey again. 

 

It crushes me. 

 

I feel empty. Like an idiot. Not worth the space I take up. And stupid for allowing myself to hope that my life would be alright again. That I would get off that easy. But of course that’s not the case. Why would it be? I AM an idiot. Useless and not worth the space I take up. 

 

I pull the duvet over my head as tears start streaming down my cheeks. I just want to bury myself in my bed and wait for it to be over. All of it. But it probably never will be over. 

 

There is a knock on my door. It’s my mom. I know her knocks by now. Three short ones and then she opens my door. 

 

“Good morning sweety”, her voice is cheerful and I just want to disappear.

 

I am still buried underneath the duvet when I hear her draw the curtains back and open the window. She is humming quietly to herself. She sits down on my bed and slowly pulls the blanket off my face. I shy away from the light, wipe tears from my cheeks and hide my face in my pillow with a sniffle. 

 

Her humming dies down. I hate it. I hate her for caring so much. I know I’m hurting her. 

 

They say that;  _ Grief is the price we pay for love _ . My parents have definitely paid that price. Many times over the last few years. Every time I fail them and spiral out of control. 

 

When I’m manic their worry and concern feels like an annoying mosquito buzzing in front of my face constantly breaking my stream of brilliant thoughts and ideas. When I’m depressed it’s even worse. It’s claustrophobic and asphyxiating. They keep touching me, wanting to hug me soothe my roaring thoughts. But it burns my skin. The sensory input it produces overwhelms me and fires up my anxiety like nothing else. Which is why I flinch when my mother puts her hand on my cheek and try to turn my face towards her.        

 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”, she says with a gentle voice as she combs her fingers through my hair. 

 

I can hear the worry in her voice. How the cheerfulness from last night has suddenly evaporated and left her sad and powerless. I can’t bear the fact that I take away her hope as well. It’s almost unbearable to manage my own disappointment and with hers added, I just break. I start sobbing into my pillow, because everything hurts. There is only hopelessness, failure, broken dreams and disappointment left. 

 

“Please just go”, I manage to get out between heaving breaths. 

 

But she isn’t going anywhere. I know that. She lies down next to me and draws me into her arms shushing me, quietly. I let her. Even though my brain is screaming. Slowly, with my mom’s guidance my breathing evens out and my brain allows me to melt into her embrace. I bury my face in her neck as the tears continue to stream down my cheeks. She just holds me and strokes my hair. 

 

I fall asleep in her arms to the sound of her heartbeat.

 

When I wake up it’s almost dark outside. I can see a sliver of light coming through my door that is left ajar. My head is not as heavy as it was earlier, so I manage to sit up in bed rubbing my eyes. They’re dry as hell. 

 

And then I have to pee. Shit. I feel like I am about to burst. I stumble out of bed and walk on wobbly legs to the hall and into the bathroom.

 

When I make my way back along the corridor I see my mom sitting at the kitchen table. She’s typing on her computer, her eyes furrowed and concentrated. She’s probably working. I don’t know how she’s not been fired yet. She is missing a lot of work these days because of me. She probably stayed home today to look after me. What a waste of time. Taking care of your ungrateful son who just cries in her arms, then tells her to leave and sleeps the rest of the time.

 

As if she can read my mind, she looks up from her computer and smiles at me with one of those fake smiles that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

 

“Hey kiddo. Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?”

 

“Did you stay home from work today?”, I ask completely ignoring her questions.

 

She sighs and looks at me with her signature pitying-eyes and folds her hands on the table in front of her. 

 

“I didn’t go into work today, no. I would rather be here with you. But you slept all day, so I have gotten a whole day’s work done. It was no trouble, sweety”

 

“Okay”, I only say, because that’s all I have the energy to respond. 

 

I get a glass of water and go back to bed closing the door behind me. 

It doesn’t take me long to drift back into a dreamless sleep.


	5. FIVE

Something is buzzing.

 

I can’t really grasp what that might mean. I am slowly waking up, realizing that it’s probably my phone. I manage to untangle it from my duvet where it lies buried. When I unlock the screen the clock shows that it’s nine in the morning.

 

And then my brain catches up to what that means. SHIT. It’s nine in the morning, which means I slept all day and night yesterday. It’s wednesday.

 

Shit shit shit shit shit.

 

I tap at the phone symbol on the screen revealing five missed calls from Isak. Four from yesterday afternoon and evening and one from two minutes ago. I have thirteen unread messages and fuck fuck _FUCK_!.

 

The last fuck I actually say out loud.

 

I open my messages and brace myself for what I am about to read. My heart is hammering in my chest and my hands are shaking. Isak must be pissed. I’ll never get a chance with him now.

  


**Yesterday, 16.05**

 

_Hey Even 😄 I’m here. Got us a table by the window. See you soon._

 

**Yesterday, 16.20**

 

_Are you running late? I can order for you if you’d like. Something sweet right? You seem like the kind of guy who drinks sugar with coffee and not the other way around 😉_

 

**Yesterday, 16.24**

 

_Okay. That was a little weird to asume. You’re just kinda sweet you know..._

     

**Yesterday, 16.30**

 

_I’m getting a little worried? We did agree to meet at Kaffebrenneriet by Rådhusplassen at four right?_

 

**Yesterday, 16.35**

 

_Just scrolled back in our messages. I’m at the right place and at the right time. Where are you?_

 

**Yesterday, 16.37**

 

_Could you please answer my texts or my calls. I’m getting a little worried if got hit by a car or something._

 

**Yesterday, 16.45**

 

_Are you seriously not gonna answer me?_

 

**Yesterday, 16.58**

 

_If you didn’t want to meet up with me you could have just told me! This is seriously shitty of you!_

 

**Yesterday, 17.05**

 

_Pick up your damn phone, Even!_

 

**Yesterday, 19.54**

 

_I hope you’re okay?_

 

**Yesterday, 21.14**

 

_Could you please let me know that you’re okay?_

 

**Yesterday, 00.32**

 

_You know what? Fuck you! Don’t lead people on if you’re just gonna stand them up and not give an explanation. That’s fucking shitty behavior! Is this a fucking joke to you? You’re just trying to see how far you can push the desperate gay kid and laugh about me with your friends?_

 

**Yesterday, 02.46**

 

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just really liked you and I thought you liked me too. I’ll try and call you in the morning. Hope you’re okay. Good night, Even._

  


I think I can actually hear my heart breaking. _Yup._ There is a definite cracking sound from my chest.

 

What the fuck have I done?

 

Sweet, funny, lovely Isak.

 

I just _fucking forgot_ we made plans to meet up, because I was so far up my own depressed ass yesterday that I forgot everything around me. The only fucking good thing in my life right now and I royally fuck him over. Fuck I hate myself.

 

My finger hovers over his number and I almost press call. But I don’t because I’m a coward. What the fuck am I going to say.

 

_Sorry for being such a fuck-up?_

 

_I can’t be what you want me to be, because I am sick in the head?_

 

_Please forgive me, I am a complete idiot for you, but my mind won’t give me a fucking break?_

 

I can’t come up with anything that doesn’t make me sound like the fucking victim in this situation. And I’m not. I need to own up to what I did. This is not about me. This is about Isak and the fact that I hurt him and made him believe that I would actually do it purposely. I can feel the last bit of my rapidly beating heart falling apart at the thought.

 

Who would ever hurt him purposely? He is perfect. Sweet, smart, funny, hot… God so fucking hot. I want to cry and yell for fucking this up for myself.

I need to apologize. Make him know that this has nothing to do with him. It's all me. _Always_ me. _Never_ him.

 

I tap my finger on his name and bring the phone to my ear. My need to make him feel okay about himself is foolishly outweighing my fear of him yelling at me right now.

 

The signal is established at it’s ringing now. I am holding my breath for the first 3 beeps. Then there are two more. And two more.

 

My mind is a complete mess of _please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…_ and _please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don't pick up…_ in imperfect symphony.

 

And then he picks up the phone and my mind goes blank.

 

 _“Even?”,_ he sounds a little frantic and my mouth is dry and unable to form words.

 

 _“Hallo?”,_ Isak says a little hesitant this time.

 

And that gets me going. Because no way am I gonna let him feel insecure and small because of me.

 

“Hi Isak. I’m so so so so so sorry about yesterday. It has nothing to do with you. I’m so sorry I didn’t show up and didn’t answer you until now. I have no good excuse as to why I treated you like that. I am a complete loser and you deserve better. Seriously. Fuck I’m so sorry. You didn’t misunderstand. I really like you too. And I really wanted to get to know you. Fuck I’m so sorry!”

 

“Even… “, Isak tries.

 

“No! Shit. I wasn’t ignoring you. I only saw your messages and phone calls five minutes ago. You need to know that I didn’t want to hurt you in any way. I would never! I know I just did. And shit, you don’t even know me. You probably think I’m full of shit. I promise I’m not.”

 

“Even!! Could you shut up for one bloody second!”

 

Shit. Here comes the yelling. I close my eyes and prepare myself for the anger. I deserve it so I better straighten my back and take it. Or cower into a corner and never come out again. That sounds more like me.

 

“Are you okay?” Isak asks, his voice soft and full of concern.

 

And _WHAT_?

 

“What?”

 

“Are.  You. Okay?” he repeats slowly.

 

Then there is silence. None of us say anything for a while. I can hear his breathing through the phone. He is waiting.

 

And then I do a stupid thing. I open my stupid mouth and manage to croak out a silent,

 

“No…”

 

Why the fuck did I say that? Easy. Because it's the truth. And I can’t lie to him, apparently. It would simply be too disrespectful. But it was still stupid, because of course the sweet guy that he is he then asks,

 

“What happened?”

 

He sounds concerned. After all I put him through yesterday he is still concerned about me and doesn’t sound pissed at all. Shit, this boy is to sweet for his own good.

 

“I’m sick”

 

“Oh… I’m sorry”

 

“Don't be. Please don’t worry about me”

 

“I do though. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

 

“No? Isak… It's okay to be pissed at me”

 

I can’t believe I am trying to get him mad at me, but I can’t stop myself. The words just tumble out of my mouth. No control.

 

“I’m not pissed. You can’t help it if you're sick. Did you sleep all day yesterday?”

 

“Yeah. Pretty much…”

 

“So you didn’t see or hear me calling?”

 

He sounds a little hopeful, if my ears are not totally messing with me.

 

“No. I’m so sorry. I was not myself yesterday. I was really far gone.”

 

“So, you didn’t.... _not_ want to see me?”

 

Isak suddenly sounds vulnerable and I’m not having it.

 

“Of course I wanted to see you. God, Isak I was so happy when I got to sleep monday night. I just…”,

 

I have no idea how to explain how I could forget him. I don’t even know myself.

 

“So, you just… forgot?”

 

He seems to have reeled in his emotions and his voice is now a little flat. Not unkind, but just straight up talking.

 

“I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know how to explain. I know that it’s a bullshit excuse”

 

“When will you be back on your feet?”

 

Now he sounds like my professor, when I spoke to her on the phone two days ago.

 

“I don’t know. I’m feeling a little better today, but you never know…”

 

“...okay”

 

And then it’s silent on the line for a few seconds.

 

He’s probably wondering if I’m worth his time. I’m really not, but I am a selfish person so I won’t tell him that. Not when there is a chance that he might still want to spend time with me.

 

I finally work up the courage to speak. Though hesitantly.

 

“Look, Isak… I am not in a very… stable place right now and…”

 

I can hear him breathing on the other end of the line. It's the only evidence I have of him still being there.

 

“I would love to see you. Really! But… “

 

I am interrupted by Isak scoffing silently.

 

“Even. Seriously, it's fine. Whatever. If you don't want to hang out it’s fine. Just tell me. I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

 

He talks with an emotional distance that I know all too well and my heart is breaking for what feels like the tenth time today and I’ve only been awake for twenty minutes.

 

I want to tell him everything, but I just can’t. I can't stand the pity and the filter that suddenly appears between me and other people, when I tell them. Not Isak. I want him to treat me like a normal person. And if that means that he will yell at me for standing him up, then so be it. I will take the abuse. I will do whatever it takes to get him to trust me again. I will make it up to him. Just not through pitty. I will not allow this illness to dominante yet another relation in my life. No. I have to fix this without the bipolar. I am more. I think I am. I want to be more.

 

“Isak, I WANT to hang out with you. Please believe that. I know that I sound like every cliche you’ve ever heard, when I say the following words. It’s not you. It’s ME. As I was about to say before, I would love to hang out with you, but I have to be honest with you and say that I can't guarantee that it won’t happen again. It pains me so much to say it, because I never want to hurt you again, but I just can't promise you that. But I will swear to you that if it does come to that, it has nothing to do with you. Nothing. Okay? Just… Can I please see you? Can we hang out? I really want to get to know you. Can I? Please?”

 

 _Jesus_ , Even. Sound more _desperate_ . Well, _fucking hell_ I am desperate. This awesome guy gave me a chance to get to know him and _the fuck_ am I going to throw it away without a desperate fight, where I throw what little chill and dignity I have left right out the window.

 

“Isak, please just say something?”

 

I can still hear him breathing.

 

“I don’t know what to say, Even.”

 

He sounds small and vulnerable again. Like he is struggling. But he continues.  

 

“I… want to see you. But I… I don't think I should?”

 

He says the last thing almost like a question. Like he is asking me what I think.

I am totally out of words. And breath. I’m just holding it all in. Waiting for the final blow.

 

Then he sighs loudly in my ear and continues.

 

“I don’t want you to promise me stuff you can't keep. And I won't pressure you to tell me why, but you can’t blame me for not really trusting that you're not full of shit right now either. I… want to see you… okay? But like. Can we just hang out? Chill? Talk? Just take it slow”

 

My heart is vibrating with hope. I can’t believe I’m getting a second chance to hang out with him. Okay, so it won’t be a date, but I will take whatever the fuck he gives me. I suddenly have a big stupid smile on my face and just want to run to him, wherever he is.

 

“We can do whatever you want, just… thank you! When are you free? I don’t have anything to do this afternoon? We could hang out at my place, or yours or somewhere you choose?”

 

“Your place is fine I guess? You can’t really stand me up if I’m coming to your's can you?“

 

It’s an attempt at a joke, bless him. But there is no laughter from any of us. I guess it's not really a joke if nobody laughs. There is no mirth in his voice as he says it. Only an attempt at a lighter tone which unfortunately fails horribly, coming of more vulnerable than I think he realizes. And I’m not gonna let him throw himself under the bus like that.

 

“Please come over later? I’ll text you the address. I’ll even text you every hour all day until you get here so you won’t worry whether I change my mind. Because I won’t. I can come pick you up somewhere. I’m sure I can borrow my mom’s car, if that helps?”

 

This actually makes him giggle a little in my ear and it's the sweetest sound.

 

“God, I am an idiot for giving you another chance, right? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Just text me the address and I’ll see you in the afternoon when I’m done at uni.”

 

I can't believe how lucky I am. Well, not lucky. More, privileged. Isak is coming to my place tonight.

 

“I can’t wait!”

 

“You have to wait though because I have class for the next six hours, and I’m not giving that up for the guy who stood me up.”

 

The cockyness is back in his voice again, thank God. I laugh. I can’t help it. I am a complete fool for him and he can tell me how much of an idiot I am, over and over again, as much as he wants, as long as he’s willing to see me and talk to me. I will take it all.

 

“I’ll wait forever, if I have to.”

 

And then he is laughing too.

 

“Okay, Even. Maybe I will make you wait a little longer then. Just to mess with you. But I really do have to go to class now. So… See you later I guess?“

 

I throw my fist into the air because I am a dork and almost scream. After a beat, I compose myself and manage to answer him in an almost normal voice.

 

“See you later. I’ll text you. Every hour! Be a genius!”

 

I can almost see him shaking his head and rolling his eyes at me though the phone. I’m ridiculous. But somehow I don’t mind being a fool for him. Anything, if he keeps laughing the way he is now.

 

“Bye, Even”

 

“Bye, Isak”


	6. SIX

**10.00**

 

_It’s been an hour. Well, almost an hour._

_Thanks for picking up when I called._

_I’m really sorry about yesterday. Again._

_Hope your class is interesting._

 

**10.03**

 

_I don’t even know what you study? Are you a total nerd?_

_You so are, aren’t you?_

 

_Keep texting me and you might find out_ 👨⚕️🤓

 

_Was that a hint?_

 

**11.04**

 

_Just texting to let you know I am still here. Not sleeping the day away._

_I’m actually studying a little too. Reading about modern cinematography._

 

**11.15**

_Wow. Modern cinematography?_

_That sounds pretty pretentious 😉_

_Are you a hipster, Even? 🙈_

 

_How dare you?_ 😱

_I AM no such thing!_

_I just appreciate the artistry it takes to create something beautiful_ 😍

 

_Right_ 😏

_Okay._

_I just read what I wrote._

_Maybe I am a bit of a hipster. But not like a HIPSTER HIPSTER you know?_

 

😂😂😂

 

**12.07**

_So what’s your lecture about?_

  


**12.27**

 

_Anatomy_

 

_Of being a nerd?_ 🤓😉

  


**13.01**

 

_Maybe you should look yourself in the mirror before using that word I-read-about-modern-cinematography-for-fun boy_ 😎

 

_It speaks!_ 😁 _Or texts… I guess._

 

_I’m bored._ 🙃

_When are you done for the day?_

  


**13.20**

_Aaaand, I lost him again._

  


**13.25**

 

_You do realize I am sitting in a room with 300 other students right now, trying to learn something important?_

 

_Yay!🐬_

_Hei!😄_

_and ofc I do._

_That just means that you can text me without the professor noticing you,_

_because you just blend in with the crowd._

 

_Not really, no._

 

_Seriously, the professor is not gonna notice one student_

_using his phone under the table._

 

_Seriously, she will._ 🙈🤫

 

_No way. I’ve been in big auditoriums._

_You can barely see the professors' facial expression_

_and they need a microphone to reach all students with their voice._

_She won’t see. Trust me._

 

_Trust ME. She will see._

_Isak..._

_I’m gonna ask you a question now._

_And I want you to answer me honestly!_

_It’s very important._

 

_What?_ 🙄

 

_Are you sitting in the first row?_

 

_No..._

 

_OMG. You so are!!_ 🤣🤣🤣

 

_Shut up_

 

🤓🤓🤓🤓

🤭🤭🤭🤭

 

**14.03**

 

_I will totally let you follow your lecture._

_Don’t want to be the reason you’re failing your course._

_If I’ve guessed right, and you are studying to be a nurse or doctor, it’s pretty important that you learn that stuff._

_I don’t want to be the reason someone dies ,because I distracted you from a vital point in your education._

 

_Doctor._

_I’m studying to become a doctor._

 

_Are you trying to kill me? 🙈_

 

_Wtf? No? I’m gonna be a doctor, remember?_

 

_OH, I remember._ 😉😉

 

**15.00**

_Your six hours are up doktor Isak._ 🙃

_Come to my place?_

 

**15.15**

_I hate you._

_She totally noticed!_ 😑

_My professor just pulled me aside and asked me if she needed to put more breaks in her lectures_

_since I was clearly unable to concentrate for more than fifteen minutes without looking at my phone._ 🙈🙈🙈

 

_Awwww. You checked your phone every fifteen minutes?_

 

_You kept texting me!_

 

_So you claim._

 

_Claim?? You did!_

_I have proof._

 

_I man of science, indeed._

 

_You don’t believe me?_

_This message thread speaks for itself I think._

 

_I’m still not convinced._

 

_Oh please, Even. Please, tell me what to do to win your hard earned trust._

_I will do anything._ 🙄

 

_I’m going to ignore the sarcasm there and just answer the question._

_Come to my place?_

 

_Really?_

 

_Um, yeah?_

_You don’t think I meant what I said this morning?_

 

_I dunno?_

 

_I want to see you, Isak._

_Please come_ 🙂

 

_Text me your address_


	7. SEVEN

Isak is on his way here. It’s all I’ve wanted all day and now I’m a mess. Shuffling around my room trying to tidy up a bit so it’s not so blatantly obvious that I’ve lived in my bed for the last few weeks.

 

I push the windows open and lets the fresh air in. My dad always tells me that my rooms smells like an all boys boarding school sleeping hall and I always roll my eyes at him. But not today. Isak is coming over and I am not going to embarrass myself by having a room reeking of old socks, left-over food and God knows what else. It’s enough that I still live at home at almost 22, but I refuse to let him see what a mess I have been for the last weeks.

 

I am picking up dirty laundry, used plates and coffee cups like a mad man. Why didn’t I do this earlier in the day?? I had time to take a shower, do my hair, even though it’s a bit too long for the usual quiff, so I went for a softer more laid back style. But the cleaning up and making the apartment presentable was not really on my mind before I re-entered my room having texted Isak the address. So now I am running around like a mad man trying to make the place just a little bit presentable and like a place Isak would want to hang out with me. Preferably, all the time.

 

Or maybe we could go to his place. He probably lives with his parents, too. I bet he has the coolest room. Not at all smelly and messy like mine. He probably has shelves of nerdy books, swimming trophies and a wardrobe full of tight swimming shorts.

 

And I _really_ don’t need that image distracting me right now. But my dick has no concept of timing and is of course chubbing away in my tight jeans right now, creating a delicious friction as I move around the room. At some point I have to stop and give it a pleasuring, but firm squeeze to make it calm the fuck down. I haven’t really gotten use to it’s persistent return into my days just yet, so I didn’t have the sense to jerk of earlier like a fucking sensible person. That window has closed now. Not because I wouldn’t be able to come in minutes if I put my hand down my pants right now, but because I absolutely refuse to greet Isak at the door all flushed, mind still full of all the dirty things I would do to him if I had the chance.

 

Because I will be lying to myself if I think I will be able to picture anything else than his tight ass in swimming trunks and the sweet moans he would utter if I got my mouth on his neck, while touching myself. So, I am NOT gonna do that right now. I am gonna get myself and my dick under control and clean up the rest of the mess in my room, make the bed and fluff the pillows on my small two-person couch.    

 

 _You are NOT going to mess this up!_ I keep repeating to myself like a mantra. I am so sick of being a fuck-up. The guy that nobody wants in their life because he is a fucking liability. I guess I can be pretty funny at times and I am not too bad to look at, at least Isak doesn’t seem to think so. But if the past years have taught me anything, it’s that Even Bech Næsheim is a complete fuck up, who nobody wants to stick around for. My friends from videregående all either left Oslo to go on new adventures, or dumped my sorry ass more or less deliberately after my bipolar fucked up mine and their lives one too many times.

 

So here I am. Friendless, pathetic and desperate for one guys attention. The best guy. Fuck my old friends. I just need one friend. Isak. Or I don’t really want to be _just_ his friend, but I guess if that’s what he will offer me I will just have to take it. I don’t even know why he is coming. Seriously, I wouldn’t trust me if I was him. I just have to behave normally for a few hours and hopefully, I will be able to convince him that I am the confident and funny guy he thinks I am. If I’m lucky I will convince myself for a while as well.

 

A knock on the door rips me from my spiraling thoughts.

 

My pulse spikes and I feel it pulsing in my temples. I am standing in the middle of my room with two dirty plates in one hand and a pair of dirt underwear in the other. For a moment I am just standing there breathing. Totally numb with fear. What if Isak just came to yell at me. To tell me that I am an idiot and that he never wants to see me again. I am chained to the floor. Not able to move. My breathing is picking up and I can feel a wave of anxiety rolling through my chest making it hard for me to breathe. A glittering vale of black and grey is starting to cloud my vision.

 

Isak is already yelling at me in my head. Telling me that I am a complete nut job and that if he had known I was bipolar, he would never have talked to me. He is laughing in my face. A taunting laugh.

 

_“Did you really think you had a shot with me?”_

 

_“You must be fucking crazy if you thought that!”_

 

_“Oh, but you are aren’t you? Fucking crazy, totally batshit crazy”_

 

There is another knock on the door. This time louder than before. But my thoughts are running a thousand miles an hour and I am slowly sinking to the floor, covering my head with my hands, who have dropped the plates now laying shattered beside my bundled up body.

 

I am trying to get my breathing under control. That’s all that matters right now.

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

Slowly, my vision is returning and my heartbeat is slowing down.

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

My body is starting to relax again. My arms are slowly making their way back down my sides again and I sit up straightening my back. Taking a few more deep breaths. Grounding myself.

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

_In, hold, out, hold_

 

I am startled, when my phone starts ringing in my pocket. It is on full volume. I turned it up earlier when I was texting Isak, not wanting to miss a single one. Isak. Fuck. Isak, who has been knocking on my door for God knows how long, while i’ve been having a fucking panic attack. God, I'm a fucking mess.

 

I get up and manage to wriggle the phone out of my tight jeans pocket picking up.

 

“Hello”

 

“Hi”

 

It’s Isak, and I just go silent and wait for the screaming to start. When it doesn’t come, but nothing else follows his greeting either I seem to find my voice again.

 

“Hi, Isak. What’s up?”

 

I cringe at my own words. _What’s up????? WTF. God I’m an idiot._

 

Isak sounds a little hesitant.

 

“Ehem. I am at the address you sent me, and knocked but nobody is opening?”

 

“Oh, really? You knocked. I didn’t hear. I was on the toilet”

 

_ON THE TOILET?? Get it together. That is so gross._

 

“Oh, okay. I just thought maybe you… went out… or something”

 

“Why would I go out, when I knew you were coming over? I ASKED you to come, remember?”

 

I ask incredulously.

 

“Yeah, sure. Ehm, but I’m here now, so…”

 

“Great!”

 

“So, are you gonna come let me in or?”

 

“Shit, yes. Hang on.”

 

I stumble into the hall and open the front door in a swift motion. And there he is. Isak. Lovely, sweet Isak. Standing there, on my doorstep with his phone to his ear, looking a little hesitant.

 

“Halla”, he says and I hear it both directly and a little delayed on the phone that is still pressed to my ear.

 

A small smile is spreading on his face and I realize that this is probably a pretty silly scenario playing itself out between us right now. Two guys standing in front of each other talking on the phone as well. The ridiculousness of the situation is slowly dawning on me and I huff out a small freeing laughter. I look at Isak’s now wide grin and can’t help but smile back at him just as much.

 

I lift my finger at him as if asking him to hold on for a second.

 

“Just one second, I just have to finish this phone call”

 

That comment pulls a loud laugh out of Isak. 

 

“By all means, go ahead. I can wait.”

 

I smile at him like he is the sun. Because he is to me. 

 

“That’s so kind of you, Isak”

 

And then I turn my attention back to the phone in my hand, turning my side to Isak while holding on to the door frame with other hand. 

 

“Hey, again. Sorry. Just had to open the door. I have to go, because I would actually much rather talk to my guest currently waiting to be invited in, than you, so have a good day. Talk to you later”

 

And then I hang up the phone turning back to Isak, who is wearing an expression of faux offence on his face.

 

“You would not believe the jerk I just spoke to on the phone. He totally blew me off! Just hung up on me."

 

“Sounds to me, like he needs to get his priorities straight. Wanna come in and tell me all about it. I am the _master_ of trash talk.”

 

Isak’s smile is radiant and he just nods at my invite.

 

“I’d love to”


	8. EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on this story. It really makes my day that you have taken an interest in and like the story and characters. 
> 
> Please keep commenting and be your awesome selves! 
> 
> XO

“So, what happened here?”

 

Isak is looking at the shards of porcelain in the middle of my bedroom floor.

 

“Oh, that’s just me being clumsy. Have you seen my long legs and arms.”

 

I stretch out my arms and wriggle them around a little, to make my point.

 

“I’m bound to knock something over, eventually.”

 

He is smiling at me, with his head tilted a bit to the side.

 

“But I bet you give nice hugs, though.”

 

He is saying it in a kind of suggestive manner, I think, so I can’t help but ask.

 

“Do you want to test your hypothesis _Master of Science_?”

 

“Sure. If we’re gonna try out this friendship-thing we might as well get that out of the way.”

 

His voice is light and he has no idea how much those words get to me. _Friends_. So this is not a date. He probably wants to make that clear. I guess that’s understandable, since I stood him up pretty bad, but somewhere in a far of fairy tale land I still kind of hoped that yesterday didn’t happen the way it did. I wish I could have walked in to that coffee shop, all nerves and long limbs knocking things over, because I was so nervous. I would take being an awkward elephant in a porcelain store any day over this; Isak, telling me he wants to be just my friend.

 

My thoughts are cut short the second Isak steps into my arms. He puts his arms around my waist and leans his head on my shoulder. I can feel him everywhere. His chest aligns with mine and I’m afraid he might feel the way my heart is beating violently, trying to escape the confines of my chest. He is going to be a doctor after all and probably knows what a normal heart beat is like. It’s not like mine, right now.

 

It hits me that I am, once again, being an ungrateful shit. If Isak wants to be my friend and the only thing I gain from it are hugs like this one, then I am supposed to be all for it. Beggars can’t be choosers. So I have to take what I can get. Because being close to him like this, being able to smell his hair and a whiff of his sweet perfume, feeling his body heat and the way his breath makes his chest rise and fall against mine that is something I have to treasure and enjoy, every chance I get.

 

I am hyper aware of my body and am probably not living up to Isak’s expectations on being embraced by a friendly octopus or whatever he had in mind. It’s maybe more like hugging a bicycle rack, my bone structure and passiveness taken into account. But I try my best. I fold my arms around his upper ones and give him a squeeze. He seems to enjoy that, because he lets out a small breath of air and squeezes me right back.

 

_This is pretty good, Even. You can so do this. Be Isak's friend who hugs him 'til he makes little sounds of bliss._

 

Just when I start to get into my new purpose in life, hugging Isak, he starts to pull back. I guess it’s weird for friends to hug for too long, and this one lasted for at least five seconds. _In heaven._    

 

“Do you want help cleaning it up?”, Isak asks stepping out of my space and looking at the broken plates on the floor.

 

“Sure, that would be nice. Just don’t get hurt, I’m not a doctor so I wont be able to save you if you cut yourself and bleed out on my floor.”

 

“Yeah, well I’m not a doctor either, yet, I’m only in my second semester.”

 

He moves his eyes from the broken porcelain to my face and looks me in the eye for the first time since he entered the apartment. It's a searching look. His eyes slowly roaming my eyes and the rest of my face, when he continues speaking.

 

“I guess we’ll both just have to be careful, then.”

 

I don’t know if he is talking about the shards on the floor or this friendship-thing between us. I don’t really know what to say so I just kneel down and start picking up pieces carefully.

 

“Yeah. We’ll be carefull.”

 

We manage to locate all the broken pieces, while musing about the range of their travels, as we find tiny splinters under my couch and all the way out in the hall. I bring out the vacuum cleaner just to be sure that we didn’t miss anything and I laugh when Isak lifts his feet from the floor by leaning back on the couch and grabbing his thighs, pulling his legs up to his chest in a comical way. My brain, of course, can’t help but notice the fact that he is quite flexible and strong. The muscles in his arms are bulging as he pulls his legs back. And he looks so adorable all curled up with a concentrated look on his face. He is watching the head of the vacumme cleaner as to know, when he can put his feet down again. It gives me a chance to look at him for a little while without being caught. If I vacumme that area of the floor a little more thoroughly than the rest, no one has to know.

 

I put away the vacuum cleaner and make my way to the kitching, Isak trailing behind me.

 

“Do you want something to drink or eat? Maybe a beer?”   

 

I mentally facepalm myself and hope he says no to the beer, I am not supposed to drink, especially right now, and don’t really want to explain why I won’t drink one with him. But it’s apparently my lucky day, cause he doesn’t want a beer.

 

“It makes me all dizzy after a long day at uni. I’m a total lightweight. Kind of pathetic considering I’m nineteen and in my first year at university”, he says and shakes his head at himself, smiling softly. “But I guess some coffee would be nice?”

 

I make a whole pot and find some oreos in the kitchen cabinets. Mom bought them for me, because she hoped they wouldn’t make me as nauseous as some of the other food, her and dad have tried to force in me for the past month, when I didn’t really eat. Dad doesn’t really approve of a lot of processed foods, so we don’t normally have stuff like oreos lying around. So right now I am kind of grateful for my mom and her desperation to get me to eat, because otherwise I would have had to serve some of dad’s homemade _and stone-hard_ biscotti to Isak and he would break a tooth eating them and hate me forever, _no thank you_.   

 

We’re back on my small two person couch with two steaming cups of coffee on the table in front of us. I have one leg drawn up into the couch and am learning my arm on the backrest, with my tempe resting against my knuckles. Isak is carefully taking a sip of his coffee, blowing it first, making the steam roll over the edges of the cup and his mouth form a beautiful o-shape that shows off his sweet, pink lips. He is mirroring my position on the other end of the couch, turned half to the side with his legs folded up under his body.

 

“So, do you think your professor will ever forgive you for texting me all day?”

 

Isak lets out a huff and smiles at me.

 

“She might, when you write her a letter explaining how you needed my help, because your mother was very ill and you had no clue how to make her feel better, without my expert knowledge.”

 

“What?”

 

Now it’s my turn to huff. Not in a serious way of course, but because I love the banter between us.

 

“I will do no such thing! Oh well, I might. If it will get you off the hook.”

 

I wink at him and continue in a more seriously tone,

 

“She did just get her leg amputated, so I guess could have some questions about that.”

 

Isak then turns very pale and puts his hand on my knee.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry Even. I’m a total idiot. We medicine-students have a totally morbid and inappropriate sense of humor to deal with the horrible things we see every day, and I shouldn’t have been joking about your mother being ill. I’m really sorry.”

 

I kind of wanted to take the piss out of him some more, to get back at him for the one he pulled on me at the swimming pool, but seeing how sincerely sorry he is for what he said, just makes me lose my motivation. So, I put my hand on top of his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Hey, Isak. It’s okay. I’m only kidding. My mom is totally fine and has all her limbs intact. I was just trying to get back at you, okay? From the other day, at the pool, remember?”

 

Isak lets out a relieved sigh and buries his face in the palms of his hands and starts giggling.

    

“Shiit. You idiot. Thank God!”

 

He is looking at me again, with an open and relieved expression on his face.

 

“My brain-to-mouth-filter is seriously broken sometimes and I just say stupid shit like that all the time. In videregående it cost me a lot of stupid fights with my friends. They totally called me out and still do, when I say stupid shit. Eskild is pretty much wacking me on the head right now with a rolled up issue of Out Magazine in my head right now”

 

“Who is Eskild?”

 

“My roommate and self proclaimed guru”

 

Isak gets a weird mixture of annoyance and fondness on his face when he talks about Eskild. I’m kind of curious what that’s about.

 

“Oh, you don’t live at home?”

 

“No, I’ve been living with Eskild since I was sixteen.”

 

 _Wauw._ So Isak doesn’t live at home like me. Must make me seem even more immature having him over like this, in my childhood bedroom, but I guess most of his friends still live at home, so he hopefully doesn’t mind it.

 

“Oh, that’s… young to move out.”

 

“Yeah. My sister moved to Berlin and my mom and dad split up and everything kind of went to hell after that so I didn’t really have a place to go and, yeah, then I met Eskild and he helped me out, offered me a place to stay... _No more toxic relations, toxic friendships or toxic thoughts, just Toxic by Britney Spears_. That’s what he told me back then when I moved in. It's a pretty shitty effort at being poetic and deep, but I guess it's worked pretty well as a mantra for the past few years.”

 

Isak lets out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement and memory and I can tell he is trying to lighten the mood, so I won’t dig into that backstory.

 

“He sounds like a wise guru. And a good friend. Like someone you can count on. That’s good to have.”

 

“Yeah. He’s a good friend.”

 

There is a silence between us now. Isak is looking at his hands, and looks deep in thought. It’s not really a comfortable silence and I really want to get the happy banter back, but I am lost for words and just end up sitting at my end of the couch looking at Isak, while he picks at a small loose thread at the bottom of his t-shirt.

 

“So, you told me you were sick yesterday. Are you feeling better today?”

 

Isak is still hesitant, looking down. His question is so simple and caring, but I my mind is screaming like he is pointing a gun to my face. Of course he had to ask at some point. I would gladly pretend the whole thing never happened, but that is just not how the real world works. It happened, I hurt his feelings and I have to deal with it. But God, I wish I didn’t have to. Because what do I do? Tell him the truth? _Hah, nope._ That’s totally out of the question. I just got him in my room and I am not ready for him to leave me yet. Selfish Even, that’s me.

 

My mouth is dry and considering how much time I spent thinking and panicking about Isak asking me a question like this one, I have no good answer for him.

 

“I am better today.”

 

“Okay. You can talk to me about it if you want to, you know. I am going to be a doctor after all…”

 

“It’s fine, Isak. But thanks. I’m feeling better today.”

 

He seems to drop it after that. Probably sensing that it’s not something I want to talk about. I’m not really the best host, cutting him of like that, when he probably means well.

 

“I’m sorry, Isak. I know I’m being a little weird about it, but I just don’t really want to talk about that now. I was sick yesterday and slept all day, so I didn’t hear you calling or texting me. I’m so sorry about that. I was really looking forward to seeing you.”

 

Isak seems to have gotten the courage to meet my eyes again, because he is slowly pulling his head into an upright position again, looking at me.

 

“Yeah, me too. It was just not that awesome sitting there alone, wondering if that was the still the case and you had been in some kind of accident or just changed your mind and blew me off. That kind of sucked.”

 

“I don’t know how to tell you, how sorry I am for that. That must have sucked so hard.”

 

Isak lets out a small huff of laughter and it totally catches me off guard. Here I am apologizing to the best of my ability and he is laughing? He must see the shock and confusion in my eyes, because he smiles at me and shakes his head.

 

“So hard…”

 

“Are you kidding me Isak?! Here I am, trying to apologize for being a total dick to you… don’t you laugh at me again! And you’re making… _dick jokes…_ okay, I can see why you’re laughing now.”

 

And laughing, he is. With all his body and soul and it’s the best thing ever. And I just join him because we need this.

 

“Okay, okay, Even. No more apologies. Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Isak.”

 

He puts his hand out to shake mine like he did in the pool and it makes my heart skip a beat like it did then. I take his hand and shake it back mirroring the smile he is giving me.

 

“Even.”, I say back.

 

“Hi Even, would you like to be my friend? Have coffee with me, let me beat your ass in FIFA, perhaps go swimming sometime?”

 

“I would love to.”

 

After that it’s pretty easy to talk to him. I tell him about University - although I don’t mention I haven’t attended any classes for the past month and a half. We talk about our favorite movies and music and I discover that he has a pretty decent movie-taste for a “commoner”, as I like to call him, to tease him. He gives back as good as he gets and calls me a pretentious snob which just makes me laugh and dust his “commoners”-opinion off of my shoulders. I love the banter.

 

He tells me more about Eskild and their apartment. They used to live with two girls also, but when they moved out, one to study in Bergen and the other to move in with her boyfriend, he and Eskild found a smaller apartment for just the two of them. Since then Isak has been questioning that decision weekly, but I can see on his face that he never really seriously considers moving out. Even though Eskild apparently brings grinder dates home at all hours of the day and night, keeps the apartment in a constant haze of lavender air freshener and insists on meddling in every aspect of Isak’s life, Isak seems pretty content with his roommate.

 

I know it’s not my place, but I get a bit jealous when Isak talks fondly of Eskild or his best friend since childhood, Jonas, whom I met in the swimming pool. These people earned a spot in Isak’s life by being good friends to him through shitty times. I don’t really know why he wants to be my friend. I will never be able to do for him what Jonas and Eskild did. He will probably just end up putting up with a lot of shit from my side until he decides it’s not worth the hassle.

 

Well, I’m going to try my best and be worthy of his friendship. For as long as it lasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even's mom coming up! God I love her. Hope you do too.


	9. NINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies!
> 
> Hope you're still reading this, and enjoying it :-D  
> It makes me so happy when you do.
> 
> Please leave a comment, if you have thoughts or feelings <3
> 
> XO Signý

The front door opens and someone barges in, kicking of shoes and dropping a jacket to the floor. Probably mom. Her coat always falls to the floor, when she tries to hang it.

 

In her defense, most of our jackets do, since the hooks on the wall are hopelessly overfilled with not only coats for all seasons, but also scarfs, hats and sweaters. Whatever we take off when we enter the apartment. Dad tries to sort it out from time to time. Making little piles of clothes for me and mom, nicely folded and ready to go into our closets and drawers. But a week later it’s a mess again. It’s no use. We are all messy, even dad, and not fans of organizing. The hall is a mess of coats, shoes, hats, gloves and scarfs in big piles on shelves and in bundles on the hooks on the wall. It’s a mess. But it’s home.

 

I forced mom to go to work today. I was feeling alright after I talked to Isak, and have been texting him all day, so there hasn’t been room for all the destructive thoughts. Just Isak. Sweet, funny Isak.

 

My room is the first door on the right, when you enter the apartment and I guess mom assumes I’m in here because she just walks past my half open door, towards the kitchen, without saying hello, chatting away as if we had been talking for the last ten minutes.

 

“Hi sweety. I had the best day at work. Remember Louisa? My college who just got a puppy? Oh my God it’s the cutest thing I have ever seen IN MY LIFE. Well, except for you when you were a baby. You had such a smoochy face and those little feet. I just wanted to smooch you all the time.”

 

Since the front door opened Isak has been sitting straight as an arrow on my couch, opposite me. I almost heard his neck snap when he turned his head towards the noise of the door shutting. Now, he is turning his face back in my direction, slowly and can barely contain his laughter. His left eyebrow is hooked upwards, while he is staring at me.

 

“Were you a smoochy baby, Even?”, he whispers in between badly concealed laughs.

 

None of us are listening to what mom is rambling on about anymore. She seems to have moved into the kitchen now, doing God knows what in there, that’s dad’s domain. I’m too occupied getting my flushed face under control, to listen to her talk about a puppy.

 

What I have learned about myself, when Isak is in the room, the little time I have experienced it so far, is that I do not have any control of the blood in my body. It will rush to my face when he teases me and down south when he looks at me too long with those moss green eyes.

 

So now, my face is probably completely beetroot-red from first and second hand embarrassment over my mom. I can feel my cheeks burning and Isak, that little shit, just won’t stop laughing at me, or my mom. Who knows why he is laughing.

 

_And who cares really? It’s a wonderful sound._

 

“...so we took it into the lunch room and people went nuts over the little thing and it got so exited from all the attention that it peed on the floo… OH, HI!”

 

Mom is suddenly in the doorway staring at Isak with a surprised look on her face. She seems to have lost the ability to speak momentarily. I get it. Isak is fucking breathtakingly handsome. Although, I hope that’s not why she went silent. That would be kind of gross.  

 

She looks at me briefly, and then back to Isak and seems to get back on track.

 

“Hi, I’m Sigrid, Even’s mom. I don’t think we’ve met?”

 

She is actually coming into my room now, reaching out her hand to shake Isak’s. Of course he is the perfect gentleman and stands up and takes her hand, smiling charmingly at her.

 

“Isak”

 

“Hi Isak. So nice to meet you! Even?”

 

And now she is looking at me again, almost accusingly, but with a hint of a smirk on her lips.

She can see through me right away, can’t she?. _Damn her female intuition._ Or is that even a thing? Probably a little sexist, but whatever it is, she has it. She has to take one look at my flushed face and the way I look at Isak to know, that something is up with me.  

 

“Why haven’t I met this handsome young man before? Are you in the same classes at uni?”  

 

Now, Isak is blushing a little under mom’s brazen enthusiasm. And I’m just looking at him, not really answering her, because I’m caught up in _shy-Isak_. It’s a privilege to watch him move around a little where he is standing, from one foot to the other, looking down at his hands as his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.

 

This whole scene is really awkward. Mom standing there, looking at me with a knowing smile on her face and me, still on the couch, staring longingly and enamoured at Isak.

 

I was never any good at concealing my emotions. And when I look at Isak it must show how taken I am by him.

 

“Are you doing media studies as well, Isak?”

 

Mom seems to have given up on getting an answer out of me. To be honest, I had also forgotten that she asked me a question. I am kind of busy looking at Isak’s eyelashes. The way they flutter over his eyes when he looks down at his hands to avoid my mom’s x-ray vision. She can be a little intense. Probably where I got the drama from. _Thanks mom._

 

“No, I’m studying medicine. I’m in my first year.”

 

He seems to have found some courage because he is looking her dead in the eye now with that charming smile back on his face.

 

“Wow, that’s so great! A doctor in my house. Did you know Isak was a doctor Even?”

 

She is waaay too excited about this meet-cute and doesn’t really listen to me when I stare at her in disbelief, saying;

 

“Eeeeer yes?”

 

or to Isak, when he quietly and politely interjects.

 

“ _Going_ to be a doctor someday. I’m just in my first year…”

 

“Oh potato-tomato, Isak! A doctor, you are!”

 

She is now waving her one hand disarmingly at him while the other is resting on her hip as she is leaning on one leg so her hip shoots out to the side.

“That brings back memories… Before I met Even’s dad I was seeing this doctor in the ER. I’m a nurse, Isak. Did Even tell you?”

 

“Oh, no he didn’t. But that’s…”

 

“ _Hårvad_ , was his name.”

 

We lost her. She is off, down memory lane and her eyes have almost glazed surfaces.

 

“God he was _a dream_. Curls like yours, Isak, and when he walked into a room he just owned it. God. He owned me a couple of times in the on-call rooms back then, too.”

 

She winks at Isak on that last sentence, and that is it for me.

 

“MOM! GOD! PLEASE STOP!”

 

That’s me. Losing my shit. I have my face buried in my hands and am now standing up as well beside Isak. And I think I am about to die from embarrassment.

 

“ _Oh, come on Even._ We’re all adults here, right Isak? What’s wrong with a little romance-story from when your mom was a sensual firecracker. I dumped his ass a few weeks later when I found out he owned other people in the that room as well, if you know what I mean.”

 

Isak’s horrified face shows that he understands exactly what she means. But he keeps silent and tries, to the best of his ability, to school his features into a polite smile, God bless him. However, his efforts only result in a wry smile and two wide open greens eyes staring at her.

 

“Then, of course I met Even’s dad not long after that and never looked back. I started working as a research nurse after I got pregnant with this ball of love standing next to you and haven’t seen Hårvad since then. Jan is so much more handsome and wonderful than _Hårvad,_ bless his curls though, ever was. Have you met Jan, Isak?”

 

“No, I haven’t had the pl…”

 

“No, of course you haven’t. He would have told me if Even had brought home such a handsome young man. I know he seems like this controlled, couldn’t-care-less, silent type at times, but he’s such a gossip! God I love him.”

 

She throws her head back and laughs lovingly at the thought of her husband, which finally gives me an opening.

 

“Ooookay! That’s it from you now, mom.”

 

I physically start pushing her out of my room.

 

“Oh. Yes of course. So nice meeting you Isak. If you wanna talk medicine, you know where to find me! I have more stories from back then that would shock you!”

 

I shut the door in her face and sigh deeply. I almost don’t dare turn around and face Isak. But I pick up the pieces of dignity that my mom didn’t take with her and turn around, leaning my back against the closed door.

 

Isak’s eyes find mine and he bursts out laughing. It’s a full body laugh. And I see tears forming in his eyes when he tries to speak.

 

“WHAT. The fuck. WAS that.?!”

 

I can’t help myself and just join him, laughing my ass off. It’s totally liberating and lightens the aching embarrassment pulsing through my body.

 

When I catch my breath, I walk back to my couch and sit back down.

 

“THAT. Was my mom.”

 

Isak is still chuckling lightly as he walks to the couch and slumps down next to me unceremoniously. Closer to me than when we sat here earlier, I notice. He is looking at me with a look of pure amusement and little bit of mischief that just makes me want to kiss him right here and now.

 

“I like her”


	10. TEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anatomy humor, frozen dinner crisis and Evens' dad being his awesome, sneaky self.
> 
> Sorry it's been a while.  
> I hope you will enjoy. <3 It's the longest chapter yet. Let me know what you think.
> 
> XO

Since Isak was here three days ago we have been texting pretty much all the time and I am loving it. He is so funny and interesting, I just wanna lick his brain . Okay, that’s a weird thing to wanna do, but I just wanna soak up all the knowledge, experiences and everything Isak and that is the image my brain fabricated for that to happen, so there. I’m weird, but I guess I knew that.

 

I text him good morning, he texts me back the same. Then I get little texts during the day from him, in between his lectures. He tells me what he is learning in class, who he is annoyed by, mostly his friend Magnus, from what I have heard so far, and sends me weird science memes that I don’t get at all.

 

He found out pretty quickly that I didn’t get why they were funny. Maybe it was a test. He sent me a picture of a bone with the caption; “I hope you find this humerus”, and I was like,

”What? That you can’t spell?”. Isak just sent back five LOL’s and that winky face emoji. Cocky shit.

 

 

I am generally curious and kind of stubborn so I googled it, because I didn’t want to seem too stupid, but I still didn’t really get it, so I had to ask Isak about it. He gloated for the rest of the day and over-explained everything else for me. “A bus is a hollow metal compartment on wheels that transport people around the city”. He wrote after texting me that he was on his way home. I just sent him back an emoji rolling my eyes.

 

He teases me all the time, but never in a condescending way. He just makes me laugh and then asks me about what I am doing right now and what I am thinking about. I never tell him the truth because the answers to those questions are mostly, _jerking off_ and _you._ Well, not all the time, but I am kind of rediscovering my body after my libido returned to full heat this week. I’m just human, and kind of bored, now that my mind is returning to a balanced ground. And thinking about Isak all the time just gets me all hot and bothered.

 

I spend all day at home, alone, because my parents have finally agreed to go back to work full time, because I am doing better now, so when my dick twitches in my pants I’m not really one to deny myself an orgasm, powered by golden curls and toned abs.  

 

We don’t talk about the whole flirting-we were supposed to go on a date-thing, at all. We kind of talked it out when he was here. Except we didn’t. He told me he was hurt, and that he wanted to be my friend and then I apologized for the millionth and that was pretty much it. He hasn’t been flirting with me in the texts he has sent me and ignored it or been overly thankful almost treating it as a joke when I pay him compliments and try and flirt at little.

 

I guess he did ask me if we could take it slow and just get to know each other, be friends, whatever that means. I just wish I knew if it was just for now that he wanted us to be just friends or if he wants the friendship to be the basis for something more. I definitely want that. But I have stopped with the flirting, because I don’t want to risk him running away from me because I push him further than he is comfortable with.

 

I have decided to go back to school on monday. I haven’t felt really sick since tuesday and the fact that I am starting to get very bored is a good sign that I should get going. I have figured out that I need to keep myself busy as soon as I can coming out of a depression, because staying at home and doing nothing can prolong it. When I get out of the house, even though it’s scary, I feel like I am accomplishing something and it’s pretty satisfying not being a lump of good-for-nothing.

 

So, lectures on monday. Here I go. Not ready at all and scared shit that the professor and my fellow students will look at me like I’m some freak or free-rider or worst of all look at me with pity in their eyes because they somehow found out that I’m sick in the head and can’t really help the fact that I am a freak. I haven’t told any of my classmates that I am sick, not that I have spoken to any of them that much. Just the niceties in the small breaks between classes and small talk about the lecture we just had. It’s superficial and mostly the other one doing the talking.

 

I’m shy and not that confident when it comes to facing strangers. Maybe I should try a little harder. I’m an okay guy and people seem to like me alright. I just need to take that next step and ask them more personal questions, I guess. Invest and get to know them instead of just sticking to small talk and movies. It’s just really awkward. I often don’t know what to say and ask, when I meet new people I wanna talk to, so I just end up doing something weird to get their attention and hope that they will start the conversation.

 

My thoughts drift to Isak again for the hundredth time today probably. I don’t want to think about what I would have done if I had seen him for the first time in the changing rooms at the pool instead of in the actual pool. I would probably have put my t-shirt on outside of my sweatshirt or put my socks on my hands or some other weird shit to get his attention. Or pushed at the soap dispenser in the common showers until it was empty, just to look up at him and say something odd like; “Oh, did you also need soap?”.

 

I’m cringing at the scenes flashing before my eyes right now. I need to get out of my head. So I do what my therapist has suggested many times and write my thoughts down in a small notebook, already pretty full with random thoughts and situations. Sometimes I write them down in script format (occupational hazard I guess?). Maybe one day I can look back at all the small scenes in the notebook and make some kind of artsy situational short film about being an awkward angsty teenager. When it’s not all so fresh and I’m hopefully in a better place in my life. Preferably, married to Isak.

 

I write out a couple of different scenarios of how I could have met Isak or _“future husband Isak <3” _ as he is called in my short scripts. The one with the soap dispenser kind of develops from being really awkward into a kind of dirty scene when I get it on paper. I just didn’t realize at first, when I thought about meeting Isak in the shower that I could have seen him for the first time completely and not just partially naked. _God._ That would not have gone down well. Well, I would have. Gone down, that is.

 

My notebook now contains both a very descriptive _and illustrated_ version of how that first meeting could have happened. I can feel my cheeks are flushed and I just managed to turn myself on, again. Who knew I could write and draw that kind of smut. I snap the notebook shut and am kind of embarrassed of what I wrote and drew. I kind of want to rip out the pages and destroy them, but I don’t, because I promised my therapist i wouldn’t. No matter what I write down in this book, it stays there. That’s the whole point of it. To get thoughts out of my head in a very literal way. She says it will help me separate myself from my thoughts when they overwhelm me. I think it kind of works. Then, if I want to revisit those thoughts I can do so when I am ready and prepared to face them.

 

I don’t know what she would say about the fact that I have now turned it into a smut journal, but she says that all thoughts are legit and nothing to be ashamed of, so I guess I will have to try and trust her on that and move past the shame and embarrassment running through my body.       

 

I put away the notebook and turn on my laptop. I have spent the last few days getting an overview of the course plan and curriculum to see if I am able to catch up and jump into the course again even though I missed a few weeks of it. I am a pretty smart guy, when it comes to my studies, if I may say so myself, so I am hoping that I will be able to do it. Retaking the semester would really suck, but I guess I just have to face that when or if it becomes a reality.

 

I spend the afternoon reading texts and watching videos my professor sent me and start to get into the concepts and mindset slowly. It feels good.

 

Dad comes home from work late in the afternoon and I move my laptop into the kitchen. I haven’t been talking to anyone all day except from the usual texts from Isak, so I am a little socially starved.

 

We don’t talk much. He tells me a little about his day at work, while I help him unload the groceries. When he starts preparing dinner we fall into a comfortable silence. I return to my laptop and read a little bit more about cinematography. I’m pretty deep in some chapter about what different lenses of cameras can do to affect the mood of a scene when my phone vibrates and plays a few melodic tunes. My attention is on my phone in a split second because I know who is texting me.

 

I changed the message tone to a special one for when Isak texts me. I was getting really tired of the disappointment of picking up my phone when I got a text and it wasn’t from Isak, so I changed it. That way I know when it’s, probably, my mom texting me. So, then I don’t have to run through the apartment, hitting my shoulder hard when I bump into the door frame of my room and jump onto my bed to look for my phone inbetween the sheets, frantically fumbling it to get it unlocked when I do, just to get disappointed that it wasn’t Isak texting me. Which of course didn’t happen, at all, one to many times over the past few days… I am so lame. And have the biggest, stupidest crush, ever.

 

**17.49**

 

_So. I’m standing at the frozen food aisle in Rema 1000_

_and can’t decide which frozen dinner sends the least_

_“I’m broke, unhealthy and can’t cook for shit”_

_-message to the cashier._ 🙈

 

_Hmm. That’s a tough one._

_What are your options?_

 

_There’s pizza, thai, pyt-i-panna, mash and meatballs,_

_and some weird thing called a pizza burger, which kind_

_of freaks me out. I mean which is it more? and why_

_would you make something like that? Because I will_

_probably buy it at some point and then hate myself_

_for it, because I will like it. Save me from the pizza_

_burger Even!_

 

_I will always save you!_

_Do you see any vegetarian pizzas?_

 

_I’m not sure I like where this is going._

 

 _Don’t you trust me, Isak?_ 😭

_I’m hurt. I’m not sure I wanna save you_

_from the judgement of the cashier any longer._

 

_I’m sorry I trust you! Please help frozen food-guru!_

_Anything but the judgement of the cashier!!_

_It’s a lady old enough to be my grandmother_ 👵

_and I just can’t stand when old people look disappointed._

 

_Guru. I like it._

_I’m back on your team._ 😄

 

_Only frozen food-guru. I already have a guru for pretty_

_much everything else._ 🤩

 

_EVERYTHING else?_

 

_Yup. My roommate is my self-proclaimed guru when it_

_comes to EVERYTHING. He is so fucking nosy and_

_has an opinion about EVERYTHING I do._ 🙄 _But I guess_

_he did save my ass more times than anyone else, well_

_maybe except Jonas, so I deal with him. My roommate_

_is a worse cook than me (yeah, like WHAT?!), so this_

_is not a job for him at all!_

 

 _I am so honored to be chosen for this very niche guru job then._ 😄

 

 _I see a vegetarian pizza._ 🍆🥒

 

And then I choke on my own spit because those emoji choices can’t be random. Right? I’m coughing my lungs out at the kitchen table, trying to get myself under control. It’s difficult to think when my brain is lacking the oxygen to do just that. Dad puts a glass of water in front of me and I manage to gasp out a “thank you” in between coughs.

 

**18.15**

 

_Did you abandon me in my hour of need frozen food-guru?_

 

_Never._

_Grab one of those pizzas and head for the vegetable aisle_

_and get a red pepper._

 

_Done! What’s next, oh wise one._

 

_I can get used to this kind of bossing you around_

_and being praised for it_

 

Now I’m smiling like a loon again. That seems to be the pavlovian response to when he texts me and also kind of compliments me. I chose to look past the sarcasm. My eyes are glued to the screen and the dance of the small bubbles that tell me Isak is writing me back.

 

“Isak?”

 

Dad is talking to me. I’m not really listening through. However, did he just call me Isak? I tear my eyes away from the screen and look up in confusion. My brain probably decided to play a trick on me. He probably asked me something and my brain is infused with everything Isak that all words sound like that now. I look at dad and he is looking back at me like he just asked me to pass the potatoes, expectant but not showing any eagerness.    

 

“Hm?”, I manage to get out, hoping he will repeat his question.

 

“Isak?”, he then says again gesturing to my phone.

 

“Are you texting Isak?”

 

The answer is out of my mouth before I can even think about it.

 

“No.”

 

It comes out a bit defensive for some reason. Like I have been caught doing something I’m not supposed to. Which is stupid. So I reign myself back in.

 

“Maybe... How do you know Isak?”

 

“Your mom talked, she mentioned that you had a new friend.”

 

Again with that casual, relaxed expectation for me to elaborate on the subject. He is so different in his interrogation technique than mom, but I know him well enough to know, what this is. He is curious because he and mom gossiped about me and Isak and now he wants to know more from the horses’ own mouth. He has turned his back to me now, returning to his cooking and giving me space to answer. He is so damn good at this. I always end up telling him more than I planned when we talk, because he just makes me feel safe and willing to tell him everything. I don’t get annoyed by his questions, like I do with mom’s. So, like pretty much always, I start talking.

 

“Yeah. Just met him at the pool on monday. He swims there with his friends every week. He’s pretty… cool.”

 

“I see. Are you...”

 

“I was thinking of going back to school on monday”

 

I am done talking about Isak, because this conversation is only going awkward places and I am not having the whole coming out officially ( _I’m pretty sure that they suspect or already know I’m not in the heterosexual box, but we never really talked about it)_ and birds and bees talk with my dad right now. Luckily, dad is really socially intelligent and quickly senses when  people are uncomfortable talking about something, in contrast to mom, so he doesn’t hold me to it and just goes along with my abrupt topic change.

 

“Oh. That sound great, Even. Have you spoken to your professor so she can help you get up to date with the curriculum and assignments?”

 

“Yeah. She sent it to me a few days ago. I think I might be able to get back on track with the course if a cut a few corners here and there and focus on the most important texts.”

 

I open the new message that has ticked in from Isak, because he is my first priority right now. I am saving him from an awful dinner after all. Can’t abandon him now. So close to the goal.

 

**18.25**

 

_So you like being in charge of things?_

_And getting praised for it?_

 

_Interesting… I’ll hold on to that knowledge_

_might come in handy sometime._ 😉

 

_I knew you had a big ego somewhere._

_With all the pretentious movies you watch_

_and your career plans I shouldn’t be surprised…_

😉

 

_Now that you’ve realized that my ego is quite big_

_why do you keep on trying to bring it down?_

_This will not help you in your quest for a decent frozen dinner._

_Remember that praise is the way to my help._

 

🙄 _Fine._

_Please, please, pretty please give me the next_

_clue in this neverending  supermarket scavenger hunt._

_Before I have a low blood sugar-induced meltdown and_

_buy that damn pizza burger._

 

_Okay. Hang in there, we’re almost there!_

_Go get a pack of sliced pepperoni, and basil and oregano,_

_if you haven’t got that at home already._

 

_Are you kidding me? You make me get a vegetarian pizza_

_just for me to put meat on it? Isn’t there like a law or something_

_that forbids that… I will be judged by the cashier now for a_

_totally different reason now._

 

_Isak. You said you trusted me and this is what I_

_advise you to do. The vegetarian pizza has much more_

_topping than the ones with meat which gives a pretty_

_good base for flavour, then you add the pepperoni and_

_some extra pepper and herbs to lift it up to a proper meal._

 

_The cashier looked at me like I was a lost soul._

_So much energy wasted. When she asked me if I_

_wanted the receipt I just blurted out “I’m going to be a doctor!”_

_out of desperation. Then the look got even worse. I think_

_she saw right through me. Damn. I hate old people._ 🙈

 

🤣😂🤣😂

  
  


Dad sits down at the table with me and I once again redirect my attention to him.

 

“Even, when you do go back to school don’t overwork yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. If you have to retake the course it’s not the end of the world. You’re still very young and whether you get your degree at 23 or 25 doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. I finished my degree when I was 28 because I changed studies halfway though and worked in between, and I think my life turned out pretty great”

 

He reaches out and pats me gently on the side off my neck, just below my ear, so his thumb brushes over my jaw. It’s something he has always done, since I was a small kid. That and run his fingers through my hair. However, that stopped abruptly after I became a teenager and discovered hair products. I only needed to throw one hormone induced tantrum over him messing up my hair due and he stopped doing it. Now it’s just the pat on the neck that’s left and I like that he shows that he cares about me that way.

 

My friends back in ungdomsskole thought it was kind of weird that my dad would touch my neck like that, for no apparent reason, because their dads didn’t really touch them at all besides the occasional hug when they won a sports match or had been away from home for a week on summer camp or something like that. My dad does it almost every day. When he comes home from work, when I say something he approves of or gets an idea for how to save the soup he just burned on the stove.

 

“I know dad, I just really want things to go back to normal.”

 

“I know, kiddo. They will, but you have to allow time to do its’ job. And try to enjoy the journey. Life is not about the end points and the achievements, but about the memories and experiences we make along the way.”

 

My phone is buzzing in my hand. Dad can probably sense that that is enough lecturing for today, so he leans back and starts flicking through a magazine on the table.

 

The text is a picture of Isaks’ knees. He is sitting on the tram in the seat closest to the window with another person's’ thighs glued to his at full length even though he has tried to angle them away.

 

**18.40**

 

_Pretty sure this chick on the tram wants to sit_

_on my lap._

 

_She won’t stop looking at me! and keeps moving_

_closer when i try to move away._

 

_Can’t blame a girl for trying though can you?_

_Best seat on the tram_ 😉

 

 

“You should ask him to come to dinner on monday?”

 

I’m drawn out of my daydream of sitting on Isak’s lab on the tram by my dads voice. He is still flicking through the magazine, not looking at me.

 

“Who?”

 

“Isak.”, he says and gestures at the phone in my hand.

 

“You should ask him to come for dinner on monday. I’m making butter chicken.”

 

“...Okaay? Why?”

 

I’m not really sure if I want the answer to that question, but I just blurted it out.

 

“You said he swims on monday too. You can eat here and them mom can drive you to the pool? Two birds, one stone.”


	11. ELEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't know how to summarize this chapter without major spoilers. Sorry :-S  
> I guess you'll just have to take a leap of faith? I hope you won't be disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sweet readers!
> 
> I've missed you! I'm sorry it's been a while. I am working full time on my PhD and have just taken on trying to learn how to play the piano and the weeks just flew by. 
> 
> This chapter has no Isak in it (I know! I suck!), but it's really important for Even's further development. So please bear with me. I am really nervous about posting this, so please be kind to me. 
> 
> Hope you still wanna stick around. I love writing for you <3

I’m thinking about the talk I had with dad yesterday. I need to chill a little with the studying and not exhaust myself before I’ve had a chance to get started properly again. It’s not like he told me something I didn’t already know, but it’s just hard to do things slow and right when you just want to fix things as fast as possible and move on. 

 

I know that it’s naive and unrealistic that I can just snap my fingers and it will be like my episode never happened. Because it did. I am still carrying a heaviness in my body that won’t quite leave me and have trouble falling asleep. 

 

My mind thinks it’s a good idea to play back the last month’s events and feelings to me when I flick of the lights at night. I curl in on myself, as the waves of guilt and shame roll over me, unrelenting and unforgiving until exhaustion claims me and I fall asleep.

 

I don’t want to be a complete idiot for the monday lectures so, even though my dad wants me to take it easy, I try and read the texts and watch the videos for those lectures at least. Prioritize my energy, as my therapist says. That’s the key. 

 

Isak ignored me for a couple of hours after I implied that I would like to use his lap as cushion, last night. That was a stupid thing to write anyway. I can’t really get used to the fact that I’m not supposed to be flirting with him. I really try, but it just slips out. Sometimes he totally sets me up for it   _ (I think???) _ and I have a hard time believing that he isn’t, to some degree, doing it on purpose. He is seriously confusing. I try my best to keep the blatant interest to a minimum, because I don’t want him to ignore me like he did last night. 

 

I tried to write him to ask about the pizza, but he didn’t even read my message, the small grey check sign being a pretty clear message that I crossed a line. I considered sending an apology, but I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge that I had messed up, so I didn’t (I’m good at denial). Hoped he would let it slip, like he has done it a couple of times before. 

 

This morning, or rather midday, he texted me,  _ “Good morning” _ telling me the pizza was surprisingly delicious and that I had earned myself a permanent job as his frozen food-guru. I let out a breath I had been holding since last night and could finally concentrate on my homework.

 

After that sunday passes fairly quickly.

 

Dad has of course told mom about his brilliant idea of having Isak over for dinner tomorrow and she is thrilled and on “TEAM JAN” as always. They seriously need to get a hobby other than nosing around my private life. 

 

I am not opposed to the idea of having Isak over in general. I am pretty much racking my brain for an excuse other than “I miss your face and your laugh“ to get to spend more time with him, but a hang-out-date whatever it would be, does absolutely not include my parents if I can help it.

 

We’re at the dinner table munching on some awesome samosas with various homemade dipping sauces when dad can’t stay off the topic of Isak anymore.

 

“So, did you ask Isak if he wanted to come tomorrow?”

 

Damn casual tone, smiling at me like the air isn’t thick with intent and curiosity.

 

Mom is not keeping up appearance as well as dad.  _ Surprise!  _ Her head snaps up from her food at his question and looks at me with wide, expecting eyes.

 

“Eeerh. Yeah…”

 

I totally didn’t.

 

“He can’t come.”

 

Now dad is looking at me as well. He is really not gonna give up until I give him some kind of reason, but my brain is not geared for this kind of work in the evening. My energy is low because I have spent most of it studying and worrying why Isak hadn’t texted me back. 

 

I almost just tell dad the truth, that I don’t want them to embarrass me and mind their own damn business! But I stop myself before the words leave my mouth.

 

Mom and dad have been the foundations of my pitiful existence for months now and being rude to them like that would just be ungrateful and disrespectful. I guess I kind of owe them some entertainment, since I was out cold for a long time sucking the joy and energy out of their lives like a black hole. 

 

But I continue the lie. Because even if I would want Isak to come to dinner and satisfy their need for... whatever it is they want from that, I really haven’t talked to Isak about it and can’t exactly do it now with such short notice without sounding totally desperate.   

 

“He had a... thing... he had to take care of.”

 

“A thing?”, mom asks with a genuinely interested look of her face. 

 

I am trying to be a good son and behave, but I just can’t anymore. I feel like I am being pushed into a corner that I walked right into myself and it’s fucking stressing me out. So I kind of snap at her.

 

“Yeah! He has a fucking thing, okay?? I know you want him to come and eat with us so you can oogle him and ask him weird questions, but he is MY friend! NOT yours! You seriously need to find a hobby other than watching and discussing my life like it’s some God damn TV show!!”

 

I don’t know when I stood up during my rant. But I am now standing in the middle of the floor, chest rising and falling heavily with anger and exhaustion. I don’t have the energy for the fit I am currently having.

 

Both mom and dad are looking at me surprised. Like my reaction was totally unexpected. I just glare back at them. Huffing and crossing my arms across my chest, to create a sense of self preservation.

 

It’s dad who speaks first. He has regained his calm, but his eyes tell a story of hurt and disbelief. 

 

“Do you think that’s what we’re doing? Asking about your life, because we want to be entertained?”

 

I’m not ready to give up this fight just yet, even though some of the air has already left the inflated balloon I currently am portraying.

 

“Seems like it”

 

“Even, can you please tell me, exactly what you think is going on right now.” Dad replies very calmly.

 

Fucking hell. I can’t even have a fucking fight with my parents, like normal people my age. They just absorb everything I throw at them, not pushing back. Sometimes I just wish they would scream back at me. When they don’t, I feel so pathetic and ashamed for making a scene like this, when there is clearly no reason for it, according to them.

 

When I don’t start talking mom joins the conversation.

 

“Will you please sit down and talk to us, sweety?”

 

I am seriously exhausted now and totally deflates as I slide back into my chair looking down at my hands. 

 

The silence is deafening. Only the quiet humming from the refrigerator can be heard. I can tell their giving me time to calm down and start talking. 

 

I take a deep breath and open my mouth, only to shut it again. I can feel my throat swelling and cough to keep my voice under control.

 

“I am just so tired of you guys knowing  _ everything _ about  _ everything _ I do. It’s like I don’t have anything that’s just mine. I am really grateful for you guys taking care of all my shit and dealing with me when I’m all over the place, but I just need some space. I know that I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay but...”

 

“Wait. Even. You think you owe us so much that you HAVE to tell us stuff when we ask?”

 

Dad is looking at me with a soul crushing look on his face. I haven’t seen him look that hurt, ever. Like what I’m telling him is totally new information.

 

“Well I just… don’t want to be ungrateful.” 

 

Mom is reaching over the table, silently asking for my hand. I let her have it and she immediately starts rubbing her thumb soothingly over my knuckles.

 

“Sweety, you don’t owe us anything. Do you hear me?”

 

She is searching my eyes to underline her statement with a loving, but firm look.

 

“You are our son. I don’t think you will truly understand what I am going to say to you now unless you have children of your own someday, but try okay? 

 

Since the day you were born, your dad and I have loved you more than anything in this world. Not like you love your partner or a friend, or any other love you might have ever felt. The love for your child is a special and unconditional kind of love that does not run out or ever falter. it means that you will do anything and everything to keep that child safe from harm and hurt. 

 

You have been hurt. A lot. And we have not been able to do anything about it, because the illness that you have is not anybody's fault or could have been prevented by anything in our power  _ or your’s _ .

 

We try to minimize the pain that you have to live with and take care of you when you can’t quite manage it yourself. Not because we feel like we have too, or because it is somehow an obligation to being a parent. NO! 

 

We do it because we love you so much that when you’re hurting, we hurt too. So much that you can’t understand. Because when you love someone as much as a parent loves their child, as much as we love you, we can’t  _ not _ do everything in our power to support you and try to lessen the pain.

 

The support we give you is not a loan, a trade or anything that can ever cause you debt. It is given freely as a gift. Without any conditions. Because it’s in our nature to do so.”  

 

Tears are rolling down my cheeks, heavily. Mom is still holding my hand. I can feel her eyes burning into my forehead but I can’t meet her eyes. The familiar shame is pulsing through my body, almost choking me.

 

“I never want... to cause you pain”

 

“You don’t.”

 

I open my mouth to argue but she wont let me.

 

“ _ You _ have  _ never _ caused me pain. The things that  _ have happened to you _ have caused me pain.  _ You _ are  _ not _ the cause of that pain, Even. Never. Don’t you ever feel ashamed or guilty for something you can’t control. You are such a good person and you make me so happy because of the things  _ you choose _ to do. I am so proud of the person you have made yourself into.”

 

I am sobbing now. I can’t hold it in. So I don’t. Grown ass man in my parents’ kitchen, crying like a child because my mom tell me that she loves me and that I am more than the pain I bring into her life.

 

Dad is clearing his throat. He seems to be having trouble holding back the tears as well. 

 

“Even. We don’t ask about Isak because we want to pry. We ask because he is a new person in your life, who seems to make you smile. A lot. And just like your mom just said that your pain is our pain, your happiness is also our happiness too. If you have found someone who makes you smile like a fool for a week...”

 

I snort out a laugh at my obviousness. Snot and tears all over my face.  _ I am quite the handsome devil. _

 

Dad is smiling at me now, his eyes still blank from tears. He continues.

 

“When you find someone who makes you smile like  _ that _ . We want him around!”

 

I don’t know why I want do it, but I just can’t hold it in any longer. I don’t really want to either. So here goes nothing.

 

“I’m in love with him.”

 

Mom looks at dad with a shit eating grin on her face. He just raises his eyebrows at her in a playful manner before looking at me again with a warm smile on his face.

 

“We kind of figured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts??????


	12. TWELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even goes to class monday morning and meets a new person, who is just as much of a movie nerd as he is.

It’s 8.49 and the lecture hall is completely empty. 

Why wouldn’t it be, really? Lecture doesn’t start ‘til 9.15. 

My footsteps seem very loud in the big auditorium. I haven’t quite noticed the scale of it before now. When it’s completely empty. When it’s full of students talking to each other it somehow gets smaller. Then you just try and spot an empty seat somewhere and head there immediately, not noticing the room much. 

 

Now, I just stand at the top of the stairs looking down the 20 - no 21, rows I count. I haven’t been in this room for almost two months and it’s quite intimidating. Standing here, on the edge of the steps of the path leading down between the rows. 

 

I don’t have ‘a seat’ so my legs don’t carry me anywhere by default. So here I stand. A little overwhelmed by the amount of possible seats I can choose from. Should I go to the front, the middle or somewhere in the back?

 

I know the number of people in this class isn’t enough to fill up the auditorium and I don’t wanna look like an idiot sitting all by myself in the front… or in the back… or middle. 

 

_ Fuck! Why did I have to come here so early?! _

 

_ Because, you woke up at five and turned around in bed, unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep until you gave up and got out of bed at 6.15… Had coffee, read a little more for the days lecture, got dressed, ate breakfast with mum and dad, brushed your teeth and then it was still only 7.30.   _

 

I’m groaning internally. Throwing my head back in frustration.

 

“I fucking hate mondays too, bro.”

 

I whip around with a startled jump.

 

There, in the door is a guy, with long brown hair. The top section has been drawn back into a bun and the is rest hanging, resting on his shoulders.

 

He looks as tired as I feel, but he smiles at me when he catches my eye.

 

“Shit, bro.”

 

He laughs at me.

 

“Didn’t mean to frighten you. Did you have too many cups of coffee this morning or something?”

 

“No. I was just a little caught up in my head…”

 

I look out onto the sea of empty seats again, trying to decide on a place to go. It’s weird to just stand here looking, right? Normal people just sit down where ever, right?

 

“Mondays! I know. I’m a complete zombie too. Only reason I’m here this early is because my roommate decided to have loud morning sex and I just had to get the fuck out of there! 

He is going to be a preschool teacher but there is nothing PG… anything... about screaming  _ ‘Yes! Oh God Vilde! Spank me harder! I’ve been such a bad boy. Oh GOD!’ _ . Wallah, I swear even Allah is covering his ears, being like;  _ ‘Dude! Don’t get me involved in your dominatrix fantasies!’ _ . No judgement of course. They can do whatever they like in bed, but seriously. Please leave God and the rest of us out of it, right?.”

 

I have no idea what to say to the guy. He is pretty much babbling away like were long time… bros…? He is looking at me like I am supposed to somehow confirm his indignance and share his pain. 

 

I manage to give him a tight smile,  _ I think _ , and mumble;

 

“Right... “

 

“Damn right! So where are we gonna sit?”

 

He walks straight past me and a few steps down before turning back towards me.

 

“Where do you normally sit? I haven’t noticed you before. No offence, but there is like a lot of people in this class and I normally stumble through the doors at 9.14 in a ‘haven’t had my coffee yet’-haze”

 

“Erh… I don’t really sit anywhere. I haven’t been here in a while, so, eh.. yeah”

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

He runs back up the few steps and throws an arm around my shoulder, pointing with the other towards all the empty seats.

 

“Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom.”

 

And now I'm laughing. This guy has an ant for theatrics and gives the Mufasa impersonation his all.

 

He is laughing too now.

 

“No? Too early for the Lion King? Bro…”

 

He is shaking his head at me, faux disappointed. He has let go of my shoulder and is walking backwards down the steps slowly, tutting at me. Then he throws his arms out to the sides. 

 

“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it!”

 

I know he is talking about me choosing a seat right now, but that quote just hits me right in the gut. About a lot of stuff in my life. If I can’t even take a fucking seat in an auditorium, how will i ever take charge of my own life? 

 

Yesterday, my parents told me I was brave. And I felt it, for the first time since I was a kid probably. Where did it go, now? The bravery.  _ Just make a fucking decision. Where you sit today is not gonna set you on a path for destruction! _

 

I square my shoulders because I need the physical strength to get out of my head right now. I don’t want to be numb and paralyzed by every choice I’m presented with. Some of the choices we make in life are big ones, with serious consequences. But this one. Taking a seat in an empty lecture hall, is not one of those. I need to fucking choose my battles. I can hear my therapist’s voice in my head. Not the  _ fucking _ part of course. But the whole resources-thing. Balance. Prioritize. 

 

So I take a breath and decide to be brave. Come what may, even though it feels like taking a step of a cliff.

 

“Jordan Belfort, my dearest friend, If you don't mind, I'd like to join you by your side. Where we can gaze into the stars, And sit together, now and forever. For it is plain, as anyone can see, we're simply meant to be."

 

The guy breaks into a great big smile and nods his head approvingly at me.

 

“Nightmare before Christmas! Nice one!”

 

I’m getting a high five and can’t help the smile that spreads wide on my face. 

 

The then guy jogs down a few rows and stops somewhere in the middle and beckons me to enter the row first with a courteous bow.

 

“After you, my dearest friend”

 

I choose a seat somewhere in the middle of the row and he plonks down next to me. We get out of our jackets and start up our computers in comfortable silence. 

 

When the room starts filling up with other students as the clock passes nine, the guy turns to me with a soft smile and reaches out his hand.

 

“I’m Mikael by the way.”

 

I take his hand.

 

“Even” 

 

“Nice to meet you, Even.”

 

He squeezes his eyes together, sizing me up with a smile on his face.

 

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom.” The Lion King (1994)
> 
> “The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it!” The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)
> 
> “My dearest friend, If you don't mind, I'd like to join you by your side. Where we can gaze into the stars, And sit together, now and forever. For it is plain, as anyone can see, we're simply meant to be.” The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
> 
> “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Casablanca (1942)


	13. THIRTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely people.
> 
> Are you still reading? Sorry it's been a while. This is a pretty long chapter (for me) so I hope it makes up, for the time away.  
> Please throw me a comment if you have any thoughs :-* I love it when you do <3
> 
> Spring is here! At least in Denmark it is. Everything is starting to bloom. I love it so much. I hope you enjoy the sun as well, where ever you nice people live <3

Today has been good so far. Really good actually. It started shit. But after I sat down next to Mikael and he just kept talking to me in between lectures and also during them, to the great annoyance of the other students sitting around us, I just calmed down. I kind of felt like I belonged there again. Which is an awesome feeling I did not expect to regain so soon. He really is my guardian angel. A weird, non-stop talking and all over the place kind of guardian angel, but hey, I’m weird, so I guess my guardian angel should be too.

 

I’m not a religious person. So, I guess the thought of Mikael as my guardian angel is more a figurative than spiritual thing. During one of his badly hidden, pretty much one-way, conversations in the middle of the lecture, I almost laughed in his face because I imagined him with a skew halo, blinking as if it was running low on batteries or something and him not giving a shit. Just taking it of his head, banging it on the table in front of him until it’s grow was continuously restored and then throwing it back on his head again.

 

If he is my guardian angel, sent to make my first day back at uni bearable, of course he will be the intern guardian angel, who kept it real and probably needed a guardian angel himself. Or some kind of supervisor at least. The guy is a mess. But he just carries it, owns it, like it’s no big deal. I wish I could be that open and confident about my flaws and not-so-thought-through actions.

 

Maybe it’s some kind of coping mechanism for me. To come up with weird scenarios and layers to alter and filter the reality, to make it less serious and real. To distance myself from it, as if it’s just a movie. Then I can turn it off if it gets unpleasant. So I put halos on strangers, imagine what dinners people in front of me in the supermarket are shopping for and who they are cooking for. I make up love stories about strangers sitting next to each other on the tram, and get caught up in one sided phone conversations. Who are they talking to? Why are they talking and is one of them going to say something suddenly that changes their relationship forever?

 

I’m so fucking dramatic. But my brain just runs with it. So I indulge it.  

 

I pretty much let my brain do what it wants, as long as it’s not spewing horrible thoughts at me. Maybe, if I let it have its way, then it will be kinder and let me be in control more often. I guess I kind of consider my brain and me to be two separate entities. Which is pretty weird, I realize.

 

Many people believe that we are made up of a body and soul and maybe that’s how it feels sometimes for me. That my soul; my mind, emotions and experiences, are separate from my brain. So when the horrible, shameful and crippling thoughts push away everything that feels like ME, it’s my brain doing it and not me, not my soul at least.

 

I know that my illness alters my brain processes and therefore my perception of the word and myself, even changes my personality sometimes, but it’s hard to accept that I am no more than chemical balances in my brain. That everything that makes me, ME, is so fragile and changeable. It’s the ultimate loss of control. That I can’t even know who I am, because it can change without me knowing and realizing it. To completely lose myself. It scares the shit out of me and makes it really hard to deal with my illness, because I am so fucking afraid of it. Of myself.

 

I don’t trust myself anymore. Because how do I decide what is real, if I’m not even sure that I’m real… who the real me is.

 

That’s why I need other people. To remind me of who I am and what I think, when I’m not myself, when I’m sick. I need my parents to tell me that the people in the walls, talking shit about me, aren’t real. I need them to tell me that the horrible and shameful ideas, and thoughts of how I could hurt other people and myself, are not a product of my personality, but of my depression. And today, I needed Mikael to tell me that I was right where I was supposed to be.

 

Today has been a good day so far.     

 

-

 

It’s half past eight and I’m standing in the changing rooms in front of the door that leads to the communal swimming pool.

 

Water is dripping from my hair and continues to run down my chest. I’m wearing my normal swimming shorts that reach the middle of my thigh, but I feel kind of naked anyway. I’m very aware of how pale I am and how flat my hair is. My hands are weird and large and I just feel so wrong in my body.

 

I’m trying to communicate to my brain that everything is as it should be, and that I am not a total freak. I’m quite the average, norwegian person. But it’s not really helping the panic trying to smoke out every insecurity I have about myself right now.

 

 _Isak_ is behind that door. THAT I know is real. Because he texted me earlier that he would be.

Him and his friends goes swimming every monday night, when they can. They used to go to school together but since they graduated and went their separate ways, it’s been a priority to meet up once a week and swim. They all need to exercise and apparently Isak’s friend Magnus had insisted that chicks (and dudes) loved swimmer bodies and that swimming was way more fun than lifting weights, so they had ended up at the pool every monday night since then.

 

I’m seeing Isak again. For the first time since he was at my apartment on tuesday, last week. _Is it just a week ago I met him? That can’t be right…_ I can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t on my mind, all the time. _What the hell did I spend all that time doing, before I met him?_

 

Again I’m being totally dramatic. Expecting him to have changed so much, because it feels like forever, since I saw him last. God, I’m pathetic.

 

I shake my head to try and get out of there. Water is flying around and my semi-long hair sticks to my face. It helps somewhat. Because now I’m pushing the door open to the pool area and slowly make my way around the corner, where the pool comes into view.

 

I don’t spot Isak or his friends immediately, so I am startled when I hear my name being shrieked from somewhere to my right.

 

I whip around and see them by the wall. They have a few yoga mats lying there and are apparently doing some kind of stretching exercises,  _I sure as hell hope that's what they're doing,_  because Jonas is lying on his back, knees to his chest while Isak is pushing down on his knees, with his full body weight. He seems just as startled as me by the shrieked “EVEN!”, which leads me to the (slightly disappointing) conclusion that it wasn’t Isak calling my name.

 

Again, I am hit with the whirring sensation of how attractive I find him. My mind is totally lost in how his hair is soft, damp and curly and how his jaw is a perfect line from his ear to his chin, where there is a small dimple that I hadn’t noticed before. _How could I not have noticed that dimple before? it’s so sexy._ I just wanna touch his face and caress that perfect chin and run my thumb over that dimple.

 

Isak is trying to get to his feet. He tries to push himself to his feet by using his grip on Jonas knees, but Jonas seems to have a different idea of what’s going to happen and rolls onto his side just as Isak pushes up from his knees and they both end up on the mat, bundled up together. It would be a hilarious show, if I wasn’t powered at the moment by dumbfounded awe at seeing Isak, very much, in the flesh, and a very misplaced jealousy of his stretching partner that he is currently trying to free himself from, to get to his feet.

 

His friend Magnus is however, enjoying the situation enough for all of us it seems. He is laughing hysterically, holding on to his stomach. The sound of his laugh makes me think that is was probably him, who shouted my name.

 

When Isak manages to push himself off of Jonas with a frustrated “ _faen!_ ” and get to his feet, he makes his way towards me without hesitation. His flushed face makes me feel a little more at ease. The little stunt on the floor seems to have thrown him off a bit and I'm given a chance to be a little more cool and collected, than I would otherwise have been.

 

When he is only a few meter from me his hands and eyes goes to his speedo, _Isak is wearing an actual speedo!! I could die!!_ , like he is concerned it was somehow misplaced during his wrestle with Jonas, on the floor. My eyes follow his, like a moth to a flame, as he rearranges himself a little before looking up at me. I know I should look at his face now, because it’s pretty rude to stare at your crush’s, _well anybody’s_ , junk in public, so I do my best and my eyes begin on a journey upwards. _Might as well enjoy the view on the journey_ , the perv in my mind is telling me. So, on their way to Isak’s face, my eyes soak up his blond happy trail, toned abs, firm chest, and broad shoulders, finally making their way to his forrest green eyes, smiling at me.

 

“Halla.”

 

One word and I am practically swooning.

 

“Hey you...”

 

I have never heard my own voice sound so soft and fond, and I’m a little embarrassed at how hard it is for me to conceal my emotions.

 

I want to grab his hand and give is a squeeze, but I stop myself because that would be totally weird, as he is not my boyfriend or even close friend. _God I wish he was my boyfriend..._

 

He seems to do better than me with starting an actual conversation, because after a few seconds of awkward silence he smiles and tilts his chin upwards, with a shiny new smile and starts talking.

 

“How was class today?”

 

I'm so grateful for his social skills, when mine have apparently gone on holiday, for God knows how long.

 

“It was good. I think I made a new friend. His name is Mikael and he is an even bigger nerd than me. He kept talking to me during the lectures, like I do to you, so I guess we’re pretty much alike, him and me. He even quoted Casablanca for me.”

 

Isak’s smile is fading a bit.

 

“Isn’t Casablanca a romance story?”

 

“Yeah, kind of. But it’s also a movie about resistance and friendship.”

 

Isak’s expression is now very hard for me to decipher. His mouth is still curled into a little smile, but it’s strained and a little fake. His eyes are hard and he almost looks a little angry.

 

I’m thrown a little bit off by his sudden change in mood and I’m racking my brain for something to say, to bring back his genuine smile. It hits me now, how little I know him and I’m kind of lost, because I don’t know what makes him smile and laugh. _A good friend should know that about their friends right?_ I have never felt as far away from him as I do now, and he is standing right in front of me.

 

I open my mouth to try and say something, although I have no idea yet, what is about to come out of my mouth, but is somewhat thankfully cut off by Magnus who wraps his arm around my shoulder with a wide smile.

 

“Hey Even. My man. Good to see you! Ready for some swimming? Isak told us that you would be up for some training with us today.”

 

He seems oblivious to the tension between Isak and me, so after a quick glance at Isak who shows no sign of intending interference, I turn to Magnus.

 

“Sure. I haven’t been working out much lately, so it would be great if you could give me some pointers to get in shape.”

 

My eyes flicker back to Isak, but his expression hasn’t changed and he seems closed off to me. He is looking at Magnus and back over his shoulder towards Jonas and his other friend Mahdi, who continues the stretching exercises Isak took part in earlier. He shares a weird look with Magnus, after which Magnus rolls his eyes at Isak and turns his attention back to me, not keeping me hanging like Isak is clearly doing, right now.

 

“You don’t need to get into shape man. You look awesome. Totally tall and lean and stuff, people dig that look. But if you want to get better at swimming and doing it faster, we’re your dudes!”        

 

He finishes off by slapping my stomach with his palm, which produces an obnoxiously loud skin-on-skin sound that makes me feel very exposed and vulnerable for some reason.

 

Isak seems to notice my discomfort and snaps out of whatever mood he was in moments before.

 

“Leave him alone, Magnus, not everybody likes being groped by strangers as much as you.”

 

Magnus lets me go and points to himself;

 

“Me? Excuse me! I don’t like being groped by strangers. The only one allowed to grope this fine body is Vilde.”

 

Isak is about to retaliate when I let out half a laugh, before I manage to reign myself in.

 

Both Isak and Magnus are looking at me curiously now. Probably wondering why I’m suddenly laughing in the middle of an argument they’re having.

 

“Errh.. sorry. The first thing this guy in my class said to me this morning, was that he was sexiled from his apartment, because his roommate had weird, loud sex with someone named Vilde… Sorry, I’m being weird… I...”

 

“Did you say your new _friends_ name was Mikael?”

 

Isak is looking at me with mischief in his eyes now. Thank God the unreadable expression is gone again. Mischievous Isak I know. Even though he did put weird emphasis on the word _friend_ …

 

“Erh, yeah? Mikael. Why?”

 

“Oh my GOD!”, Magnus then shrieks and buries his face in his hands. Isak is cackling now.

 

I am a little lost at first, but then it dawns on me… Magnus _is_ probably the roommate Mikeal was talking about. I can feel the embarrassment rising in me. How my face flushes and I just want to run away. However, it’s soon clear to me that I have no reason to be embarrassed, because Isak is now looking at me like I gave him all the gold in the world. His eyes are glittering with happiness and glee.

 

He then, to my great surprise, wraps his arm around my shoulder, like Magnus did moments before and turns his head towards mine. He is so close that I can feel his body all the way down my own side. It’s warm and soft, but firm and I’m in heaven. I can feel his breath on my face and I am intoxicated by him being so close to me. He is looking me straight in the eyes, still with that expression of absolute glee.

 

“What weird things, _exactly_ , did Mikael say he was scared away by?”

 

I want to tell Isak everything. I have something he wants. He can have it. All of it. Anything he wants.

My breathing is starting to pick up and I am getting lost in his eyes yet again. I'm just about to open my mouth and tell him everything I know, when Magnus grabs my hand and points at me very sternly.

 

“Don’t you dare tell him anything, Even. I swear to God. I will drown you!”

 

“From what Mikael told me, you should swear a little less to God, when Vilde spanks you.”

 

I don’t know what has gotten into me. _What the HELL did I just blurt out!!_  I’m not the type of person to divulge other people's personal details like that. That is SO not OKAY, EVEN. I hate my mom for being such a gossip and give her a lot of shit, when she tells me personal stuff about her friends and colleagues. And now here I am, doing exactly the same, because Isak smiles at me and touches my body. _Fucking hell_.

 

I am not allowed much time to soak in shame, because Isak plants a big wet kiss to my cheek, with both his hands on the side of my face, which makes my mind go blank. Nothing but white noise is going on in my head, as I stare at him in total disbelief, him still smiling and shining at me, like he is the sun.

 

I am pulled out of my stupor by Magnus bending down and grabbing my waist. It happens so fast that I don’t manage much more that a _very_ lady-like scream, when throws me over his shoulder and walks me to the edge of the pool, where he throws me in, ass first.

 

When I make it to the surface, I see that both Magnus, Isak, but also Jonas and Mahdi have made into the pool with me. Jonas and Mahdi are trying to hold Magnus back, from coming at me, whilst laughing their asses off, clearly having heard what I said as well. Isak is making a direct line for me and when he reaches me he scoops me up, by putting his hands under my thighs. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and do the same with my arms around his neck. He pulls us toward the edge of the pool where my back hits the wall softly, with him between my legs. He holds on the edge behind my shoulders with one hand and uses the other and his legs to keep us floating.

 

He starts laughing softly, looking over his shoulder at Magnus, who is now in a water fight with Jonas and Mahdi a few meter away from us. When he turns back to me, he searches my face.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

I am overcome with the softness and tenderness of the moment. I feel weightless on so many levels. But still more anchored than I have in a long time, with my legs wrapped around the back of the man of my dreams, who came to my rescue.

 

 _OKAY_ , I was never in any real danger as Magnus is clearly not that upset, as he is currently laughing just as much as the other guys and would never hurt a fly, if what Isak has told me about him is true. But _STILL_. He threw me into the water without warning, and Isak jumped in after me, to make sure I was okay.

 

I should probably answer him, because it looks like my silence is starting to make him uneasy and he starts to draw away from me just a little. I can’t have that, so I move one hand from his neck to his chin and lets my thumb glide over his dimble there, before I turn his head a little and places the softest kiss on his cheek.

 

“Now, I am”


	14. FOURTEEN

“ISAK!”

 

His head snaps away from mine and towards a middle aged woman walk-running, as one does on a pool deck, because the ultimate rule is always; _don’t run on the pool deck!_ ’.

 

I am already mourning the closeness we shared a few seconds ago. My legs are still wrapped around his waist, where his body is gently pushing mine against the pool wall.

 

The lady looks a little distraught, which causes Isak to pull back from me and gently push at my legs, letting me know gently to let him go. I do so, of course, but my inner voice is begging and whining for him to stay put. When she reaches us, Isak is already out of the pool, water running down his shoulders and back and ass _and no I will probably never get over seeing him without clothes on._ Isak takes a few steps towards her.

 

“Hanna, what’s up? Everything alright?”

 

She looks a little out of breath as she looks at Isak with begging eyes.

 

“I know you haven’t worked here since summer, but I need you to do me the biggest favor! Please, please, please!”

 

It’s a little weird seeing, this small, at least two heads shorter than Isak, grey haired woman looking up at Isak like he holds the key to all her troubles. She is a small plumb woman, but holds authority to her posture, even if her face is currently giving Isak the ‘puppy dog’ look.

 

Isak casts a quick glance over his shoulder and meets my eyes briefly, before snapping his head back towards Hanna: His cheeks are coloring. _Is he blushing??_ as if he got caught looking at me, when he wasn’t supposed to. Like he wasn’t expecting me to look back. _Seriously, Isak. Where else would I be looking? My lips just felt your skin and I’m still recovering. Well, not really. I don’t want to recover, I just wanna continue kissing you face… and maybe lick your neck. Snap out of it Even! it’s over._

 

Isak’s full attention seems to be focused on Hanna now. He clears his throat.

 

“What do you need, Hanna? I’m kind of busy right now, swimming with my…”

 

And then he looks over his shoulder at me again for a split second, and yet again seems surprised by me looking right back, making his head snap back to Hanna.

 

“...Friend…”

 

“I know Isak, and I’m really sorry to bother you. I wouldn’t ask if I had any other options, but I don’t. Eva just slipped in the upstairs showers and hit her head on the wall...”

 

Isak’s expression changes rapidly at that.

 

“Shit. Is she alright? Have you checked for a concussion? Are her pupils dilated? is she feeling sick?”  

 

He demands, going into full doctor mode. I’m feeling a little guilty for thinking more about how sexy Isak is when he takes control of a situation like this, than worrying about this Eva girl.

 

“What happened to Eva? Is she alright? Where is she?”

 

Jonas is there now as well, looking frantically between Hanna and Isak.

 

“She slipped and hit her head on the wall and she might have a concussion. I’m going to go check up on her.”

 

Isak fires off before Hanna can get a word out. He is about to walk off towards the changing rooms, when Hanna grabs his arm to stop him.

 

“Isak! Wait. Just _listen_ to me!”

 

The puppy dog eyes are gone, and replaced by stern eyes, that match her whole appearance better.

“Eva is alright! She has a bump on her head and felt a little dizzy for a few minutes. Her dad is on his way to pick her up. He’s a paramedic. She’ll be fine!”

 

“We should still check up on her until he gets here.” Isak tries to argue, but apparently Jonas is faster and takes matters into his own hands, bypassing Hanna, heading straight for the changing rooms, without looking back.

 

“I’ll go check up on her. _I got this_ , Isak.”

 

There is a finality to his voice that seems to calm Isak down and let his friend go ahead alone. Hanna hasn’t let go of his arm yet.

 

“I swear you young people are so dramatic! Do you think everything is all or nothing, where it’s NOW or ‘OH MY GOD I’M GONNA DIE’.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes at her, and a small smile fights its way forward.

 

“Yes Isak, I have a teenage daughter who said those exact words to me, when I wanted her to empty the dishwasher before checking out the latest youtube update from some hairdresser, commenting on other peoples failed youtube video uploaded bad hair experiments. Calm down! Eva is fine and doesn’t need you boys making fools of yourself trying to be her knights in shining armor.”

 

“Fine, Hanna. I’m calm. Sorry for caring too much about my friend’s health, to listen to you.”

 

The sarcasm is clear, but Hanna doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact it seems to make her smile. Almost fondly at him.

 

“Why don’t you, young man, use that expressive attitude for some good and help me out with some other young ladies in distress, hm?.”

 

“Really? Now? Can’t you do it yourself?”

 

Isak seems reluctant and a little whiny all of a sudden, like a petulant child.

 

“Isak. You know very well, that I won’t be able to give those girls the experience they came for. It’s a 20th birthday party.”

 

And then she winks at him.

 

In my stupid head, this whole situation is starting to play out as the beginning of a really bad porno. Damn my brain for wanting to turn everything into a screenplay. Apparently, everything to do with Isak is a porno in my head now. Even an almost argument with what appears to be his former boss. And I’m getting kind of jealous too. Who are those girls? and what is Isak going to make them _experience_? I think Isak is gay, but I also know from first hand experience that sexuality and romance and pretty fluid for many people and I really can’t handle the idea of him flirting with other people than me right now.

 

So, I get out of the water with a _splosh_ and walk up next to him. Hanna and Isak seem to be having a silent argument with their eyes, ending with Isak letting out an exasperated sigh and saying; “Okay, then! But you better pay me.”

 

This seems to please Hanna to no end, as her whole face splits into a toothy grin.

 

“Thank you, Isak. Always the life saver. 15 minutes, okay? Eva already prepared the scents.”

 

And then she is looking at me. Standing next to Isak. He seems to snap out of his head and looks at me, like he forgot I was there for a moment.

 

“15 minutes.”

 

He answers her vaguely, still looking at me. I blush a little and divert my eyes from his intense, searching gaze.  

 

My eyes find Hanna’s instead and she smirks at me. I’m not sure I like that woman. She’s a little scary. Reminds me a little of my own mom, when she goes into omniscient mode.

 

“Bring your friends too, if you want.”

 

And with that she is gone.

 

Mahdi and Magnus are out of the pool as well now.

 

“What’s going on Isak?”, Mahdi asks.

 

I can feel Isak’s eyes burning into the side of my head but I keep looking very determined at Mahdi instead. I’m not sure I can handle those deep forest lakes at moment, without throwing myself at him. I’m just thankful I haven’t got a boner… yet.

 

After, what seems like forever Isak directs his attention to Mahdi and sighs.

 

“Eva slipped and hit her head. Jonas is with her, don’t worry. But I need to take care of her sesion. You guys wanna come with?”

 

And then he is looking at me again, this time catching my eyes, as I was stupid enough to look at him the second his attention turned to Mahdi. He is searching my eyes, silently asking me a question, I’m not sure what is. When he doesn’t seem to find an answer to whatever question he wanted answered, he turns back to Mahdi and Magnus.

 

“20th birthday party guys…”

 

He says it, like he’s trying to tempt them to come along, to whatever it is he is going to do. I don’t know if I’m the only one noticing the slight begging in his voice. Magnus just shakes his head at him.

 

“Seriously, Isak. How desperate do you think we are? I’m gonna do 30 laps and go home. If I’m lucky Vilde is on my couch when I get there, kicking Mikeal’s ass in FIFA. Later dude.”

 

And then he jumps into the pool again.

 

Mahdi on the other hand. Throws his arm around my shoulder.

 

“Magnus’ former self would drown his present self, if he had witnessed _that_. Who says no to celebrating a birthday girl on her 20th? Not me. Lets go boys!”

 

And with that I’m being let towards the changing room, Mahdi's arm still wrapped around my shoulder.   

 

When we get into the changing rooms Isak goes directly to his locker and pulls out his bag. He quickly dries his hair and body with his towel before throwing on a T shirt and some loose sweatpants over his still wet speedo. Mahdi has started to do the same, but at a more chill pace. Me, I’m just kind of standing there looking at them, like some looser. Still not knowing what the hell is going on, but not wanting to miss whatever it is, because that means missing out on time with Isak.

 

When Isak turns away from his locker, snapping it shut his eyes land on me and he finally seems to realize that I haven’t got a clue what’s going on. He takes a few steps, so he is standing right in front of me.

 

“I’m sorry I have to do this. But I really owe this to Hanna, so...  Can you please come? We can talk and, swimm a bit more after?“

 

Who am I to deny him anything. So I just look at him through my lashes and ask more than answer.

 

“Sure? If you want?”

 

That seems to make him smile so I smile too. He breaks eye contact and looks down at my hand. And then my heart skips a beat because he slowly, testingly wraps his index finger around mine, before answering back.

 

“Yeah. I would like that.”

 

And then we just stand there, index fingers lazyly linked down our sides, smiling at each other. Forgetting the world.

 

The bang from Mahdi snapping his locker shut makes Isak jump a little and he turns his head towards the noise, letting go of my finger. I instinctively grab for his hand, but manages to stop myself before that disaster of neediness would occur.

 

Mahdi seems a little surprised to see Isak still standing there as well, because he looks at his watch and then back at Isak.

 

“Dude! Seven minutes. What the hell are you still doing here? Go! I’ll bring Even.”

 

And with that he is gone. Out the door and my heart longs for him. I must be staring pretty obviously at the door, which he just left through, because Mahdi pads my shoulder with a laugh.

 

“Damn, you got it bad. You’re both such idiots. But it’s fun to watch. Get your bag. Just throw on some pants over your trunks, we just need to go upstairs.”

 

My mind finally seems to catch up to the events around me, so I can interact with it, because I manage to finally ask.

 

“What exactly is Isak going to make those girls _experience_. I’m not sure...”

 

I don’t get to finish because Mahdi has thrown himself into a fit of laughter. I feel like an idiot. I’m not good at people laughing at me like this. It’s like I said the dumbest thing ever and he is just laughing at me being fucking stupid. I feel really insecure and just want to pack my bag and leave.

 

Mahdi catches my eyes and stops laughing immediately, when he sees the look on my face. _Why am I so fucking transparent._ My emotional walls are no near functioning yet and everything I feel just radiates off me. No wonder mom and dad figured out how stupidly in love I am with Isak.

 

His face has now turned into a sympathetic, asuring smile and he pats my shoulder.

 

“Hey. Sorry I laughed. I didn’t know you were being serious. It’s totally chill. Isak knows how to do these aromatherapy sauna sessions in the spa department upstairs. He worked here all summer. Eva, Jonas’ ex-girlfriend, who hit her head also works here and I guess Hanna doesn’t want to let her customers down, so she asked Isak to do it. It’s actually pretty cool and relaxing and Isak does a great job, although don’t tell him I said that. If he asks, I’m there for the chicks. Not for the spa treatment.”

 

And then his blinding smile is back and he winks at me.      

 

“I didn’t know there as a spa department at this pool…”

 

I just answer dumbly, because I don’t know what to say. Mahdi is basically a stranger and I feel really exposed and vulnerable right now. I can feel my thoughts start spinning and my anxiety staring to pick up.

 

I can feel my pulse thumping in my temples and a whooshing sound blocking out all other sounds. I am rooted to the ground. I want to move but I just can’t. I am standing here, in the middle of the floor in my swimsuit, water dripping down my body. And I start to shiver. If it’s from the cold or anxiety, I have no clue. I can’t really feel my body anymore. Everything is in my head. It feels like it’s swollen ten sizes. It’s just a void of panic and …. then I can’t breathe. I feel my back hit the cold lockers and I cover my face with my hands trying to block it all out. I slide onto the floor while my chest is heaving. I can hear my own voice repeating the same words over and over again, but it’s like it’s not even my voice. It sounds distant and frantic.

_I can't breathe. I can't breathe._

 

But then I feel hands on my knees, which I have drawn up to my chest, and hear a soft, but steady voice.

 

“Even. I need you to focus on my voice now.”

 

I want to but, I can’t. I feel like I am being crushed from the inside out.

 

“Even. Please focus on my voice. I need to to breathe with me.”

 

I want to. I really do. Someone is throwing me something to hold on to and I let out a sob. Which seems to make the person talking to me continue.

 

“Very good. Just keep listening to my voice and breathe with me, Even. It’s going to be alright. Just listen to my voice and breathe with me.”

 

And then he starts counting. Like my therapist taught me.

 

“Breathe in. Come on, Even. With me. Breathe in, one, two. That’s good. Hold it for a second, three, four. And breathe out, five, six, seven, eight. You’re doing good. Keep breathing with me. One, two, hold, three, four, out, five, six, seven, eight. It’s going to be okay.”

 

I can slowly begin to feel my body again and I throw everything I have left into breathing with the voice. Clinging onto my saviour like a drowning man out on the deep sea.

 

I feel someone put a towel around my shoulders and I can feel my body shiver and shake under me again. I am trying to focus on the breathing, because I know that if I focus on my shivering legs and lips I will throw myself back into full panic.

 

“six, seven, eight. Good. Even. You’re doing so great. Can I touch you?”

 

I am hearing the voice clearer now, and nod my head in jerks. Then I feel an arm around my shoulder and I am being drawn into a sideways hug. I can feel a warm body pressed against mine and I try to use it as an anchor, slowly grounding myself. I am beginning to sense nuances of the sounds and of touch again. I feel the cold tiled floor under my butt and can hear the sound of a person’s breath very close to my ear.

 

“Should I go get Isak?”

 

I hear Mahdi ask. I guess he is not the one shielding me from the world and myself right now. And then I hear Magnus’ voice rumbling close to my ear. Softly saying.

 

“No. Just go and tell him, to go on with the girls. We’ll be there later. This is not our story to tell.”

 

“But..”

 

“Just trust me Mahdi. He is going to be fine. Just go. I got him.”

 

My breathing has come down to a normal level now. I am not hiding my face in my hands because of the anxiety anymore, but because I am so fucking ashamed and embarrassed that I can’t move.

 

Magnus, slowly pulls back from me, but stays close.

 

“Even. Can you look at me, please. I need to see that you are alright.”

 

I am _NOT alright_ I want to scream into his face. I can’t face a stranger like this. And one of Isak’s friends. He will fucking run for the hills when he learns what a fucking nutjob I am.

 

“Even…”

 

Magnus is touching my shoulder lightly. Pushing me a little, forcing me to straighten my back against the locker and expose my face from where it was buried in my hands and knees. And then his hand moves to my hands, which are still covering my face, covered in tears, snot and saliva. He slowly, without force, starts guiding my hands away from my face.

 

“Even. You’re safe okay. It’s okay. Please look at me. You’re alright. Can you please do that for me? You have nothing to be ashamed of. Please let me look at you.”

 

I don’t know why I trust him. But I do. Something in his voice, just makes me trust him, more than myself at the moment. So, I clench my eyes shut and remove my hands from my face, slowly. When the light behind my eyelids doesn’t seem so pressing anymore, I open my eyes carefully, blinking the remaining tears out.

 

Magnus is sitting on the floor of the locker room opposite me, looking at me with gentle eyes. There is no pity there, and that is enough to make me let out a sigh.

“Fuck… I’m so sorry, you must think I’m the biggest freak.”

 

Magnus just smiles softly at me.

 

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control, Even. Just because you had an anxiety attack doesn’t mean you’re brain dead or crazy. Shit happens sometime. To all of us. My mom has bipolar disorder, you know manic depression and she’s fucking awesome and totally normal even though she freaks out sometimes, like you just did. You’re a pretty cool person too you know. Well, when you’re not gossiping with Mikael  about my sex life that is.”

 

He is trying to lighten the mood and I wanna kiss him. Not like I wanna kiss Isak, but still. He is just giving me what I need right now. To not make a big deal out of it. He’s acting like we’re just two bros hanging out on the locker room floor and that it’s a totally normal thing to do.

 

“Me too.”

 

“Me too, what?”

 

“I have bipolar disorder, too.”

 

My mind is totally blank now. I have never told anyone before. Either people have found out for themselves through gossip or they were there when the shit show went down.

 

“Really? That’s fucking cool?”

 

Magnus enthusiasm totally throws me of and I let out a snort of disbelief.

 

“What the fuck? Cool?”

 

“No, sorry man. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry you’re struggling, I really am. I’ve seen my mom going through some shit over the years. Not that it’s the same for everyone, but… It’s just kind of nice to meet someone else who has bipolar you know? I’ve only ever met my mom, who suffered from a mental illness and she keeps telling me that it’s very different for everyone and I’m just curious you know? You’re like totally awesome, bro. People like you and my mom are fucking tough!”

 

I have no idea what is going on right now. First, I told Magnus, pretty much a stranger, my most shameful secret and he just starts joking around, not treating me any different than if I just told him I am a marathon runner or something like that. Second, I am still sitting on the ground, not really knowing how to get up and move on from here physically, mentally or socially, so I just stay put.

 

My anxiety has vanished like dew under the morning sun, just like that. It comes in like a tornado, ripping everything from the ground and consuming all in its way, but then it calms down and the only evidence of it being there, is the shame and exhaustion pulsing through me.

Magnus talking to me, like nothing weird has happened, even though I just went full blown breakdown on him, is so refreshing and… weird, that I’m not sure what to do and feel. So I just let him ramble on about his mom and the outrageous thing she has done when manic and watch with awe and wonder, how everything he says is clearly powered by his love for her.

 

After a few stories, I can’t help but join him laughing. It feels liberating. Like I am returning to normal. Then it hits me.

 

“What are you doing here, weren’t you gonna swim for a while? I haven’t been… ehm… freaking out for that long have I?”

   

“No, I just. Shit. Don’t tell Isak, but those damn sauna aromatherapy sessions are fucking awesome. Vilde won’t mind those girls being there, so I figured what the hell. When I came in I saw you on the floor and Mahdi trying to get into contact with you, which he wasn’t really doing a great job at. No offence, but he doesn’t really know shit when it comes to people displaying emotions out of the every-day scale. He means well, though. But I guess you just don’t know what to do if you haven’t seen or felt it yourself, you know?”

 

“I’m sorry that I…”

 

“No, worries bro. Wanna come to the sauna with me? Maybe we can catch the second round. Isak always does one session, then throws everyone into the cold water and then does another session, where he really gets...”

 

The door to the locker room flies open and I scramble to my feet in pure instinctive defence. Magnus gets up from the floor just in time for Isak to come around the corner. He stops, when he sees us standing there, still in our swimwear. I have no idea how long it’s been since he left.

 

He has a worried look on his face as he looks between Magnus and me.

 

“Mahdi said you didn’t feel so good? But he wouldn’t tell me what happened. He was being totally weird about it. So, I just had to come and check up on you. What happened? Are you okay”

 

I am blushing like crazy, when he walks towards me, looking all over my body like he is examining me for bruises or other signs of harm. I don’t know what to say. One thing was telling Magnus what was going on, when I was totally out of it, but now I just can’t bring myself to tell Isak. Mahdi was clearly freaked out by what happened, so why would Isak be any different.

 

This is the second time I bailed on him without having an explanation and I am so fucking scared that he will find out that this is me. Totally unreliable and not worth sticking around for. Because I want him to, so bad. I want to get to know him better and I want to kiss his cheek like I did earlier. I also want to hold his index finger again. Hold his hand. I want to convince him that I am worth his time, even if I don’t believe it myself. Because he is the first person in a long time that has made me feel special. Like I am something anybody would want and I crave him for that. But I can’t tell him about my problems like this. Now. He will leave. Not bother. So, I just stand there squirming under his examining eyes that are starting to grow more and more worries with every word I don’t say. So I try, but nothing really works.

 

“I’m okay, I just… well, I kind of just, like…”

 

I don’t know what to say so I am paddling to buy time for my brain to come up with something to say. Anything other than; _I had a panic attack and your friends had to take care of me because I’m a total loser. Please don’t leave me._

 

And then Magnus jumps in, because he is apparently also my guardian angel of sorts. Him and Mikael must run some kind of guardian angel company from their appartment.

 

“Even just felt a little light-headed and needed to sit down for a while with his head between his legs.”

 

Isak moves his eyes to Magnus, when he starts talking about me and interrupts him.

 

“Did you make sure…”

 

“YES, doctor Valtersen, I made sure he drank some water and was supported, so he didn’t pass out fully.”

 

Isak looks at Magnus through narrow eyes, like he is judging whether or not he did a good job or not. Then he turns back to me.

 

“Did you get enough to eat and drink today?”

 

“No, that’s probably it. I didn’t really drink any water today. Probably why I suddenly felt dizzy, but Magnus got me some water, so I’m fine now. Don’t worry.”

 

I lie. I feel like shit, but Magnus throws me a thumbs up and a wink over Isak’s shoulder, so I try not to dwell on it too much. I just want to move on.

 

Isak seems to calm down a little.

 

“Jesus, first Eva and now you. Is there some kind of curse on this building tonight? I have to go back up now. The girls are waiting for round two. I kind of left them in the bubble bath when Mahdi told me you weren’t doing too good. Hanna won’t be too happy about that. You should probably not go into the sauna if you’re dehydrated, but will you come and wait for me? I’ll be done in twenty minutes.”

 

Magnus is quick to sweep in again, making Isak look quite annoyed for him answering the questions he is asking me. I am just quietly grateful, because I don’t really know what to say to him.

 

“Even and I can totally handle the second round of your sauna, Isak. Don’t worry. He didn’t pass out, he just felt a little dizzy. No one is gonna die. Lets just go. It’ll be awesome. Are you gonna do the grape fruit? I love that shit! You’re gonna love it too Even. Just, if he brings out the oregano, run for your life. That one is seriously nasty and you smell like pizza for the rest of the week.”

 

“That was ONE time I tried that oregano, and I thought we agreed that we were done talking about it. It was shit, I get it. Eva picked the scents earlier anyway. Weren’t you supposed to swim and go home to Vilde anyway and get spanked?”

 

Isak gives as good as he gets and I am taking a moment to enjoy their banter. It feels like everything is right with the world again. Just as Magnus is about to retaliate, I find my voice.

 

“I am feeling fine now, Isak. I wanna come see you do that aromatherapy thing. It sound like something my mom and dad would love, so I have to check it out right? Then I can give them a gift card for their birthdays or something. Then they can be gross and in love in here, so I can have the apartment to myself for a few hours.”

 

Isak doesn’t seem too convinced that I am totally fine, but I do make him smile at the mention of mom and dad and he seems to relax a little.

 

“I think your mom would love it. She’s pretty great you know, your mom? All over the place, but nice.”

 

“Oij, don’t let my mom hear you talking about Even’s mom like that, she will get jealous.”

 

“Magnus, your mom is totally awesome and a hero for managing to turn you into a semi-functioning person, but Even’s mom is next level. She is a research nurse and calls me doctor Isak. You can’t beat that?”

 

Magnus holds his hands over his heart, like Isak shot him.

 

“Don’t you ever say that to her face. She will wither away. Sometimes I think she likes you more that me! You better not ditch her, for Even’s mom. I won’t allow you to break her heart like that.”

 

“Awww. Of course she likes me more than you. We have a special connection.”

 

“Ew, gross. Don’t say that about my mom.”

 

“Magnus, seriously, gross. I would never be interested anyway. I’m totally gay, remember?”

 

I let out a small whining sound, which _WHAT THE FUCK EVEN!_ makes Isak and Magnus remember that I am standing there, still very much in my swimsuit, looking dumbly at Isak.

 

It seems to snap Isak out of his praising of mothers and look at his watch.

 

“Shit. I need to get going. Put on some clothes guys. You have two minutes and then we’re going!”

 

Magnus and I scramble towards our lockers and I don’t really think, when I pull down my swimsuit and quickly change into my sweatpants and a T shirt. I turn around and throw my bag over my shoulder, ready to leave.

 

Isak is leaning against the lockers on the opposite wall, only a few meters away and he looks kind of weird. His chest is going up and down slowly but very clearly, like he is panting a little. His eyes are fixed on my T shirt clad chest and his lower lip is hanging slightly low, making his mouth look absolutely sinful, as his tongue comes out and licks over his lips.

 

His eyes snap up to meet mine and he looks a little flushed to be honest. And then it hits me that I just stripped totally naked, and bended over, with Isak standing right behind me. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks and I am positive that I look like a beet root right now. I clear my throat and try to say something to clear the air a little, because Isak seems totally gone.

 

Then, Magnus slaps the back of Isak’s head and starts walking towards the door.

 

“Two minutes are up, Isak. Snap out of it. You can stare at his ass later.”

 

I didn’t think it was possible, but Isak’s face just went even redder. He lets out a short awkwards laugh and a “shit...” under his breath, before he gestures for me to follow Magnus out of the room.

 

I can’t help the smug smile spreading on my face as I trail behind Magnus. Did Isak just check out my ass and get all flustered? I think he did.


	15. FIFTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies.  
> Sorry it's been a while. I read and reread your sweet comments and it really motivated me to write a new chapter. You're so sweet.  
> Please keep commenting, if you want.  
> Hope you enjoy! <3

I didn’t really almost faint earlier like Magnus lied about on my behalf. But now. I am pretty sure there is a very good fucking possibility that I will.

 

Isak pours water on the sauna so the humidity starts to rise and fills the sauna with steam, causing me to pant from the heat. As if I wasn’t panting already for a completely different reason. Well, not completely. Isak is hot as fuck as well.

 

The humidity is causing his blond curls to stand out even more and small drops of sweat to form on his bare chest. Isak is swinging a towel over his head in circles to even out the temperature in the sauna and his abs and arm muscles are working, clenching and relaxing in perfect symphony. My eyes are glued to his body. He changed out of his speedo and into a pair of thin bathing shorts, like the ones I wear. And he is every bit as charming as I could have ever imagined him being.

 

When we got to the spa department, Isak left Magnus and I to get changed into our bathing suits again. Well, I was the one who needed to change, as Magnus had just put his pants over his speedo unlike me who had apparently _had_ to drop my pants and flash my white ass to Isak. Well, he did seem to like the sight of my ass if I read his flustered self on the way to the spa department right. So, I guess that wasn’t the worst thing that I could have done.

 

Isak was standing with the five girls waiting for us to emerge from the changing rooms. He was clearly charming them all. They were standing around him all trying to push out their chests and booties.

 

_Oh, sweet girls. I KNOW he’s handsome as fuck, but you can shove all the boobs you want into his face. He won’t give a damn. I bet the only ass he’s thinking about is mine…_

 

I’m not normally this confident in my mind and was a little surprised by myself. _Way to go Even. Mom would be proud._ _That you think Isak is thinking about your ass?? Gross… Oh, fuck off. I am proud, then. I can be proud of myself. And my ass._

 

Just as one of the girls pulled out her phone and started playing “Fem fine frøkner” by Gabrielle, all her friends squealing with recognition, and started dancing close to Isak, he noticed us.

 

It was a sight that would normally have sent shock waves of jealousy through my body. Isak standing in the middle of five practically naked, beautiful girls dancing around him, like he was a fucking 00’s rap star or something. But it didn’t. Because, he was only looking at me. With an amused, ridiculous, silly smile on his face. Clearly enjoying the irony of the girls finding him worthy of their attention, when he was no way into them.

 

When I only stared at him with a fond smile and gesturing to the girls with a pitying pout, _poor girls_ , his cheeks turned pink and he looked at me through his lashes.

 

The moment was over a second later when Mahdi stuck his head out of the sauna telling Isak to get the fuck on with it.

 

So, here I am. Drenched in my own sweat as Isak is pouring some kind of scented water onto the sauna. His voice is calm and soft. Like he is creating a safe space for total relaxation.

 

“Okay, ladies… and guys. The first round of scents where in the citrus department. We woke up your senses with grapefruit…”

 

“Damnit, Isak. You couldn’t have waited? That shit is fucking good.”, Magnus interrups, causing the girls to giggle uncontrollably.

“Serves you right, for turning me down when I asked you if you wanted to come to begin with!”, Isak gives back as good as he gets.

 

Magnus opens his mouth to argue but Isak raises his voice a little and talks before Magnus gets the chance.

 

“AS I WAS SAYING, you already experienced the grapefruit and the exotic mix of pineapple, pomegranate and passion fruit. It has opened up your senses and hopefully given you a feeling of being transported away from shitty winter in Norway and to some tropical island where you can lay in the sand with an exotic fruit drink in your hand, preferably served by a tall, handsome man with shining eyes and a sexy ass.”

 

The last part of that sentence he says looking directly into my eyes, because of course I am staring at him like the lovesick fool that I am.

 

The girls start giggling again and I totally understand them. I am feeling just as giddy as them from the sight of Isak, the tone of his voice in the small rather intimate space of the sauna.

 

“But now, we must leave our exotic lover behind on the tropical island and cleanse him out of our system.”

 

The girls start pouting and awing at the thought of losing their new eye candy. Buuh-ing Isak. Which makes us all laugh. I dare buuh a little too. Getting caught up in the scene he is setting. This is probably what Hanna was talking about, when she meant that she couldn’t give the girls the same experience as Isak. He is a revelation. Absolutely, delightful. And cool, funny and handsome.

 

Isak is laughing too now.

 

“Don’t worry ladies, he’s probably a fuckboy anyways. You don’t need him. What is it Beyonce sings? “I can find another you in a minute, so don’t you ever for a second get to thinking, you’re irreplaceable”. You girls are too good for him. Come home to Oslo with me now. Winter is here and its crappy right now with the rain. But sometimes it snows and those frosty mornings are like nothing else aren’t they. When you feel like you can breathe better than ever before.”

 

He is pouring a new scent onto the sauna as he speaks. And starts spreading it out with the towel swinging over his head again, me catching every movement in awe.

 

When the scented air hits my nose and airways it doesn’t feel hot anymore. It’s like my panting from the humidity and heat is momentarily removed. Because, the pepperminty and pine-like smell hits my airways like fresh frozen morning air. I am brought to our cabin up north immediately, where everything is silent between the trees and the heavy layer of snow.

 

The only sounds in the sauna now is the sound of Isak swinging the towel and Magnus breathing heavily next to me.

 

I closed my eyes the second the scent hit me. And I am drawing in air in heavy breaths, each one cleansing my mind a little more. It is a refreshing and welcoming change from the dizzying heat. I don’t think I have been this relaxed in months. It’s like all the tension in my body just lets go. Just lets me rest for a minute. Just one blissful moment where I can breathe.

 

The rest of the sauna session passes by in a blur. My eyes remain closed the entire time, while Isak continues to guide us through two more scents and finishing of with a lot of steam and intense heat.

 

I don’t even notice the others getting up, leaving the sauna.

 

Isak puts his hand on my shoulder and slides it down my arm as he sits down on his haunches in front of me. I am resting my arms on my thighs and open my eyes to the sight of him smiling gently at me, sliding his hand further down to take my hand.

 

“Are you alright, I know it got a bit intense at the end?”

 

I just stare at him and can’t help the fond smile blooming on my face.

 

“I have not relaxed this much in… ever. It was pretty great. Thank you.”

 

I must sound pretty dazed, because Isak chuckles softly and starts to pull me up from my seat.

 

“Let’s get you some water, Even. Don’t want your mom to yell at me for returning her son all dehydrated and delusional.”

 

“Like she would ever yell at you. You’re perfect.”

 

Isak continues to laugh at me. Probably thinking I’m kidding. _I’m not._

 

He drags me to a glass door leading outside to a wooden deck with an outside pool. He stops in front of the door and we look out just in time to see Magnus and Mahdi jumping into the pool dragging a couple of the screaming girls with them.

 

The water must be fucking freezing judging by their screaming and hurried exit from the pool. They come rushing through the door, heading for the showers seconds later. Passing by us, the girls giggle uncontrollably, with shaking blue lips thanking Isak for the session.

 

The last girl that comes through the door lingers a bit. Turning to Isak with surprisingly pink cheeks for someone who was just in 5 degrees cold water. She opens her mouth to speak, but stops herself when she spots Isak holding my hand.

I had forgotten about that myself. Isak is holding my hand. _How could I forget that?_ I’m in heaven and I don’t even have the wits to fucking appreciate it, still in a complete haze of relaxation.    

 

Isak notices her gaze, and lazes our fingers together. I am _swooning_.

 

“What’s up, Emma?” he asks her casually, like the earth isn’t trembling beneath our feet.

 

“Erh, I, nothing. Just wanted to say thanks. You were really great.”, she is blushing properly now. And I feel a little bad for her. But not really, because Isak is holding MY hand, like he’s my fucking _boyfriend,_ not giving a shit who sees.

  


Mom is waiting outside the pool in the car.

 

When she sees me and Isak exiting the doors she rolls down the window and starts shouting something at me whilst waving frantically at us. God, she is the most embarrassing person EVER!

 

“WHAT?!”, I shout back loud because she is parked on the other side of the road and I actually understand how sound travels over distance. It might also be a way of letting out the frustration and pulsing irritation and anger at her constant interference.

 

She waves at me dismissively and rolls the window back up, thank God. I turn back to Isak to say goodbye but he isn’t looking at me. Rather, he is looking over my shoulder with a look of confusion, his eyebrows are drawn together and his nose wrinkles up in the cutest way. His eyes then flicker to mine for a moment and I think I see a bit of panic in them before he directs his gaze back over my shoulder again.

 

I really don’t want to turn around, because I have an idea of what my eyes will see. But there isn’t much I can do to stop it now I reckon, so I turn around to await the inevitable. And yup. mom is out of the car crossing the road with the biggest smile on her face, eyes fixed on Isak.

 

“Doktor Isak! Hi!”

 

She is going in for a hug right away. And even though Isak is almost a head taller than her she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a bear hug, shaking him a little from side to side.

 

It takes a second for Isak to catch up to what is happening. His eyes are fixed on me with a mixture of chock, disbelief and amusement in them. But then he wraps his arms around my mom’s back and gives her a little squeeze back. That seems to satisfy her, because she lets him go, but doesn’t step out of his space. He schools his expression, from the ridiculous what-the-fuck smile to an attentive one, as mom is clearly not finished with whatever she wants from him.

 

“I’m very disappointed that you couldn’t make it for dinner tonight Isak.”

 

_Shit, shit, SHIT!_

 

She is actually _pouting_ a little bit at him trying to guilt him. _Oh God mom! Have some dignity woman!_

 

“Dinner?”

 

Isak looks confused and a little guilty actually. Like he did something wrong without knowing so. Which of course he didn’t. This is totally my fault. Like pretty much everything else, ever.

 

“Yeah. Jan made butter chicken and it was just the best. You really missed out! Even said you had a thing, so you couldn’t come.”

 

Her eyes are searching his face and soul from the looks of it. Trying to find out what on earth could be more important than spending an evening with the parents of a boy with a ridiculous crush on him. The answer to that question is not a hard one and I almost tell her. It’s _everything_ . _Everything else_ Isak could consider spending his time doing, is more important than hanging out with my parents.

 

“Eeh, yeah...”

 

Isak is looking at me a little confused trying to figure out what to say. Clearly begging for help for what to say. I try to stare at him as if I could get him to read my mind.

 

_I’m so sorry about my over-the-top mom. I didn’t ask you to come to the dinner that my parents wanted me to invite you to, because it would have been awkward as hell and I really just want you to myself, because I can’t keep a straight (HAH!) face when you’re in the room._

 

He seems to somehow deduce what happened. _He is so fucking smart!._ Because he seems to regain his casual aura and just answers her with ease. Like lying is second nature to him.    

 

“Yeah, sorry. I had to study. Had a really big assignment to finish. Maybe another time?...”

 

The second the last words leave his lips, his eyes snap to mine and now he is panicking. Not so casual after all. I am too, panicking. I actually mouth “WHAT THE FUCK, ISAK” at him. But my mom is already giving him another hug, babbling on.

 

“That would be great, sweety! You can come next monday. I can drive you to the pool afterwards. Very important to exercise! You have to stay healthy and strong! And nice to look at for potential _kjæreste_ , right?”

 

“Right…”, he answers blushing intensely and my heart sings.


	16. SIXTEEN

On tuesday morning I get a text from an unknown number. 

 

**08.34**

 

Halla Even. New bro! 👊👊👊👊 Just wanted to check in and make sure we’re cool. A lot went down at the pool. Mikael laughed his ass off when I told him I met you too. Said it was karma for sexiling him.. Whatever. I’m still the one who got laid. Anyhow, just checking in. I meant what I said yesterday about you being a pretty cool dude. If you ever wanna hang just message me! My mom says hi! She thinks you’re awesome too!

 

**08.36**

 

AND. I haven’t told Isak about the panic attack thing. Hope I did the right thing? Mom scolded me a bit. Told me that it was important to have people you trust around you and I guess that that person is Isak for you. Sorry if I should have gotten him for you instead. I just kind of jumped into action. Went with the gut feeling you know?     

 

**08.37**

 

I hope we’re cool? 

 

**08.38**

 

HAHAHAHA shit. This is Magnus btw. Isak’s friend. 😻

  
  


I’m not really sure what to think. I am kind of dumbfounded. Yesterday was a shitshow. I cycled between panic and absolute bliss multiple times. I’m not that great with people anymore apparently.

 

I used to have friends. And a good deal of them if I might say so myself. But when I think about it, that was years ago now. I haven’t really had any friends for a long time. The ones I had in ungdomsskole fell away when we started videregående. And the ones I hung out with at videregående either got scared away by my mania or sick of my depressed ass. Some friendships just dissolved over time, because there wasn’t a willingness to keep them going, when we didn’t have a common ground anymore. 

 

I guess it’s just the way it goes. It’s a part of growing up. In movies and tv shows I hear people talking about how the ones that leave you, were never right to begin with. If people can’t stick around for you when things get tough, then you don’t want them in your life anyway. I get the point. But people saying that always have  _ someone _ left. I have mom and dad. But calling them my friends, to bring my pathetic total up to two friends, is just so humiliating that I only entertained that thought for a brief second. I have  _ no _ friends. Haven’t had any for a long time. 

 

I'm partly to blame myself. I know that. I was at uni for the entire fall semester before my last episode and didn’t engage in conversation with anyone about stuff other than the topics of the lectures and avoided the friday student bar and all parties like they were plague-infested.   

 

Brent barn skyr ilden  _ (a burnt child shuns the fire) _ is an accurate idiom for my behavior. At least my therapist thinks so. Because I have lost many friends over the years, I’m scared to seek out new ones. Because I think they will leave anyway. In time.

 

I have been fine living my life in solitude for a while. Kind of gotten used to being alone and not having people around me and a part of my life. I live with mom and dad, so there is always someone to talk to and I am rarely all alone. Physically at least. I think I have told myself that this is my life now and I need to be thankful for the things I have gotten. I could have been all alone. Without mom and dad. I am not. They are really the best parents, I could have asked for. 

 

So I am trying not to be ungrateful. To whom I owe my gratefulness I don’t know. I don’t believe in God or a creator and I don’t think the universe cares whether I’m grateful or not, for the things I’ve gotten in life. But I still feel a need to be grateful and remind myself of the few privileges I have. Ignorant privileged people are the worst. I never want to be one of those. 

 

If I take pride in one thing, it is being a decent person. It’s how I was raised and a value close to my heart. There are so many assholes out there in the world, being self-assured, self-centered and disrespectful to others and it makes me sick. Kind of made me lose faith in other people for a while. That has probably contributed to my lack of social interaction with other people. And thus a lack of friends. 

 

But then Isak happened. Sweet, kind, caring and lovely Isak. Me, just throwing all caution out the window. I am terrified that he will leave me too. Figure out am not who he thinks I am and get bored or angry with me. But even though I am scared, I can’t help myself. I just want to know him, be around him and have him seep into every aspect of my life. Coating it in the sweet calming mist of everything that he is. 

 

And now Magnus is texting me. Like he is my friend. Just checking in on me. Making sure I’m alright and that I’m not mad at him. Like he cares what I think of him. Like I matter. It’s messing with my head. I met the guy once and he is treating me like I’m his  _ bro _ . AND he told his, apparently also, bipolar mother about me. And she send a,  _ Hi, _ as well. His messages made me cringe, but the second time I read them, also smile. Magnus is so ridiculous and just says whatever comes to his mind. It seems he is living his life in the spirit of the philosopher Immanuel Kant,  _ It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission. _

 

I like Magnus. Maybe I should hang out with him sometime. He knows about my bipolar disorder and doesn’t seem to care. I guess he’s somewhat used to it, if his mom is anything like me. I kind of want to meet her, too. I know that everyone, my parents, my therapist and the doctors I have spoken with through the years, have told me that it is possible for me to live a normal life, like others who don’t have bipolar. I hear them. I just don’t dare believe it. When I was a teenager I always pictured my future with a partner and lots of kids. I’m an only child and maybe that’s why I was obsessed with the idea of having a big family one day myself. Since then I gave up on the thought of having kids. I didn’t believe that I would be fit to be a parent. And there is no way in hell I will pass on my shitty genes to an innocent child.

 

But Magnus’ mom did. She had kids. Or at least one. I don’t know if Magnus has any brothers or sisters. And Magnus is fine. He isn’t ill. He isn’t damaged. And he loves his mom. Even though she has bipolar. Maybe if I spoke to her I could… 

 

I break that chain of thought. I can’t bear the blooming hope spreading through my chest. I had finally gotten to a place where I had accepted that I wouldn’t have a family and I can’t build up that hope again, just to lose it again. It will break me.  

 

My fingers hover over the keyboard on my phone. I delete the last line I wrote and press send.

 

**08.45**

 

Hi Magnus

We’re totally cool. Thanks for the help. 

Sorry I freaked out like that and made you lie.

~~ We can hang sometime. Say hi back to your mom from me.  ~~

  
  


No worries mate! Just happy we’re good!

Wanna come over and play FIFA tonight?

The guys and Mikeal will be there. 

AND you can meet Vilde. 😻

 

Thanks for the invite. I don’t know if I can make it.

 

You will make it! I’ll have Mikael bully you into it. 

You guys both owe me. So, that’s that!

See you later!

  
  


And now I’m laughing at my phone. Suddenly, my morning tram ride is not so mundane anymore. I kind of do want to spend time with Magnus and Mikael. And if “the guys” mean Isak as well, I can’t really say no. 

 

He texted me when he woke up at ungodly hour, just to say that he was glad I stayed yesterday. And he also just wanted to see if I was okay. And remind me to drink lots of water and eat plenty of food. Seeing as my body was “all tall, lean and muscle” - he felt that himself. His words, not mine. I sent back a winky face and an eggplant emoji promising to eat healthy, because I was still half sleeping and apparently free from shame and inhibitions so early in the morning.

 

Mikael has saved me a seat in the auditorium and I plonk down next to him unceremoniously, with a sigh. He pushes a cup of coffee towards me. 

 

“I bought you a coffee, too. Yesterday you looked like a zombie, so I figured you were just as much in need of caffeine in the morning as me.”

 

I’m looking between the coffee cup and Mikael. Not really sure how to respond. It’s really fucking nice of him, to have bought me a coffee. He thought of me when he got one for himself, on the way here. I met him yesterday, and here he is. Being my friend. Saving me a seat, next to him and buying me coffee, because he thought I might need it. 

 

This morning really is powered by my pretend guardian roommate-angels. My heart is suddenly so full. I swallow. And I can feel a lump in my throat. _God dammit._

 

I clear my throat with a cough, to try and stave off my emotions a little bit.  _ Don’t you fucking dare cry over a cup of coffee, Beck Næsheim!  _ I manage to reel in myself a little and throw Mikeal a quick smile and a short, “Thanks”.

 

Mikael just pats my shoulder and answers, “You’re welcome. You'll get the next round.”

 

And then he snaps his fingers, as if he just remembered something and starts digging through is pockets for something. He has to lean back as far as he can, to stretch out enough to be able to enter his jeans pocket. It looks kind of funny, watching the long limbed guy wrestling his own jeans pocket with very limited leg room to stretch out in. Just as I let out a small laugh, he triumphantly pulls out a handful of sugar and cream powder packs and hands them to me in a courteous way. 

 

“There you are, good Sir. I didn’t know if you take your coffee with sugar and milk, so I just brought you a shitload of each. Nice to get rid of. Couldn’t really feel my thigh anymore. Damn these skinny jeans. I should never have let Isak talk me into buying them.  _ Your ass looks good in them _ , he said, and I figured that since he’s gay he kind of knew, what he was talking about. But comfort is either not a big deal for him or he is willing to suffer the consequences, because damn my balls are sweaty half the time and the other half I can’t feel my knees. And I can’t use my pockets! I can’t sit down with my phone in there. What is this stupid piece of clothing good for?”

 

Mikael is ranting, clearly not enjoying his new pants. I can’t really focus after he mentioned Isak.

 

“Isak said your ass looked good in those pants?”

 

That seems to bring Mikael out of his indignant rant about the horror that is skinny jeans. He looks at me with an odd expression on his face, before he cracks up and starts laughing heartily. 

 

“That’s what you took from that? Wauw. Magnus told me you got it bad. I see what he means. Don’t worry. Isak has no interest in my ass whatsoever. But he did like the sight of yours if what Magnus tells me is true? Really, Even. Try not to put out too much too early.”

 

He is teasing me. And I’m sure my face just turned completely red from ear to ear. I have no idea how to respond to Mikael. He is just so open and free about everything. Not hesitating saying anything. I can see how him and Magnus living together is a good match.

 

When I don’t answer him, but just start emptying the sugar packs into my coffee, he bumps his shoulder into mine and softly continues. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. Magnus said he never saw Isak so flustered around any guy, as he is around you, so you definitely haven’t scared him off.”

 

I smile at the comment. I want to believe it. So I let myself for now. Isak likes me. So does Magnus. And so does Mikael. 

 

“Thanks for the coffee. I’ll get them tomorrow.”

 

When our lectures for the day are over, we’ve been assigned a new project to be handed in, in two weeks. Mikael immediately starts brainstorming ideas, as if it's a given that he has chosen me to be his partner. So, before I know it, I'm being lead through the city towards Mikael's apartment to get started on the project. 

 

Mikael and Magnus share a small, but cosy apartment with two small bedrooms, and a decently sized living room with a giant corner sofa taking up half the space. They don’t have a dining table because, they always eat in the sofa anyway, Mikael says. They do have a small table with room for two in the narrow kitchen, though. The rest of the space in the living room, not occupied by the gigantic sofa, is filled by a large TV coupled up to a PlayStation and surrounded by multiple stacks of movies. The walls are covered in old movie posters and pictures of friends and family, I assume.

 

I notice a large photo hanging right over the sofa. It’s about twenty people standing around a long table filled with food. I find both Mikael and Magnus quickly, but also Isak, Jonas and Magnus. It can’t be that old, because they all look like themselves. Although both Isak’s and Mikaels hair is shorter than it is now.

 

“That is from Eid celebration last summer.”, Mikael says, when he sees me studying the picture.

“A friend from videregående and his little sister threw a big party in their backyard and invited pretty much everyone they knew. Muslim or not. That’s the first time I met Magnus. Sana, my friend Elias’ sister is friends with Magnus girlfriend Vilde, and Isak, so the whole gang was invited. Magnus was looking for a place to stay and my parents had just bought me this apartment, so I needed a roommate and the rest is history.”

 

As I’m looking at all those people, I can’t help but feel a little jealous. All those people coming together, sharing a joyous occasion, because they can. I guess I thought I was more okay with being isolated than I really am. Because when I see all those friends, smiling back at me in the picture, I get a feeling of being very lonely. Like I haven’t stopped to think about what I was missing out on. Just focusing on the worst parts of having other people in your life. Focusing on how they let you down, again and again. And on how giving a piece of yourself to someone else, can tear you apart. I know it’s stupid, but I kind of forgot what it’s like to have good friends. To have someone to share good moments with. 

 

I can feel my throat closing up a bit again. And I make a promise to myself. I will try harder. I will try and let people in again. Because I want to. I really do. I know that now. I was just kidding myself, when I pretended not to need anybody. I do need friends. I want friends. And the kindness and interest I have met from Magnus, Mikael and not least Isak, has sparked something in me. Maybe it’s okay to want it. To try and give a little. To believe that they won’t let me down. Have faith.  

 

“You know, me and Isak didn’t always get along.”

 

I look at Mikael. He is still looking at the picture. His joyful aura has faded and he is looking at the picture with a grim frown on the face. He turns his face towards mine for a second, to catch my eye. He sighs and moves his attention back to the picture.

 

“I used to be very ignorant, and unkind to people who were different from me.”

 

I can feel my body tensing up. I'm standing rooted to the spot. Willing myself to listen. 

 

“My older brother is ten years older than me, and moved to Morocco when I was still a kid. I adored him to a point that was obsessive. He would come home for holidays and birthdays and tell the rest of my family all the things he learnt on his travels. Sometimes my mother would argue with him, and tell him he was on the wrong path, and beg for him to come home. But he never did. He stayed in Morocco. Got married. Had children. Stopped coming home. I haven’t seen him in seven years. But, the things he told me back then, became my reality. Because I adored him so much. He was my hero. But when I think about it now, I know how wrong he was. About everything. His view on Allah, other people and life itself. I used to hate people like Isak. And Magnus. The homosexuals and the _kafir_ , infidels.”

 

“I once hit Isak in the face, because he was talking to Sana at a party. They were in their second year at Nissen and Isak had just come out. They were standing close together and laughing and I just saw red. I didn’t want him to corrupt her and make her impure, in the face of Allah.”

 

Mikael swallows thickly. I’m silent as the grave beside him. Too shocked to move and talk. 

“That day changed my life. That day Sana changed my life.”  _ Islam says the same as always. That everyone is equal. That no man should be talked of behind his back, humiliated, judged or ridiculed. Don’t use my religion to promote and justify your hatred and bigotry. Because it does not come from Islam, it comes from your own fear! _ She set me straight. And I am forever grateful. I wish I was a better person back then. I made a lot of mistakes. Hated myself for a long time. But at some point you gotta move on. Let go of the past. Be better.”

 

The pain and remorse in Mikael’s voice stirs something in me. Even though I will never understand, how people can be so filled with hate towards others, I can understand the hatred for yourself. The agony and the shame of having hurt people you love. Made them look at you with disbelief in their eyes, because they cannot believe, what a disappointment you turned out to be. As I open my mouth, the words come out almost as a whisper.

 

“How do you deal with that shame? You hurt people. How can you turn around like that, and not look back.”

 

“I didn’t turn my back on who I used to be. I’m still the same person. I guess I just got smarter. And it helps talking about it. Kind of like. Confessing your sins, so you can be free from them. Repent. And seek forgiveness. In the beginning I gave myself a lot of shit. Thinking I was a horrible person. Because who can do such things, if they’re good? But I talked to my imam, my mom and even Sana. 

Did you know that our brain is engineered to always have your back in any discussion, even if you’re wrong. It works day and night trying to make sense of the world around us, putting things into boxes. It’s just the way it works. Isak taught me that.

But when you have a limited number of boxes, to put things into, your brain will at some point start to put things into wrong boxes. Even though you can’t logically argue why it belongs in that wrong box. If you know what I’m saying. I put homosexuals into the unnatural box, the weird box, because I had never seen it before and because I had heard and read that they were weird and unnatural. And even though people gave me shit for it, and I could not find any logical, sane arguments for it being so, my stubbornness and belief in my brothers words, were more powerful than my common sense.

We can’t change the path that Allah has put us on. I believe I am where I am, because that’s where he wants me to be. He knew I needed to be challenged to find my way. To become a better person. So, I will not regret the past and dwell on it. I will learn from it. Be better.

I know now, thanks to Sana and Isak and their neuroscience phase, that my brains is constantly working to protect me by confirming my belief systems. Not because I’m right, but because it’s a survival strategy. It has taught me to be more open and force myself to be curious about things that my brain tells me are strange and divergent from it’s belief system. The awesome thing is that I now realize that my beliefs are not stationary. They change all the time. That’s why I wanted to study media. It’s all about perspective, really. Not two people in the world perceive it the same. And to be able to alter a reality, the way you want is just so fascinating. That a musical score can change a tragedy to a comedy. That a camera angle can change a person’s attitude from welcoming to threatening. That’s totally awesome, don’t you think?”

 

He is smiling at me now. The seriousness is gone again and replaced with the playful and light attitude I’ve seen before. 

 

I’m totally blown away by what Mikael has told me. I have no idea how I am supposed to process everything that he’s told me. I feel like he just cracked open his soul and let me look at it. Totally stripped of defence. I’m in awe. Mikael must be around my age and the journey he’s been on, mentally, is more than what is to be expected of the average 21-year-old. If he can move on, from a past so haunting and get forgiveness, for the things he’s done, maybe there is a place in the world for everyone. Even me. 

 

The change in Mikaels attitude is so fast that I have a hard time adjusting. We were just talking about self-hatred and deep emotional scarring and now it's just two study-buddies talking nerdy. 

 

I laugh in fond disbelief. And shake my head at him.

 

“You know, Michael, you’re actually a pretty cool person”

 

He just smiles at me with glinting eyes.

 

“You’re just realizing this now?”

 

And then we laugh together for a while. 

 

Mikael claps his hands together suddenly and starts walking to the kitchen. 

 

“Well, Even. My friend. We came here to work and be brilliant, not share sob-stories. Although we could make this film project about me. I am super interesting!”

 

I follow him into the kitchen and he starts putting on the kettle. I lean on the kitchen counter and takes the mug he hands me. It has a picture of a blond girl holding a cat on it and the text  _ Vi elsker dig! Grrrrr! Miaw! _ on it. I assume this must be Magnus girlfriend Vilde. It’s very Magnus-ish. 

 

As Mikael pours coffee into my mug, I start talking.

 

“I actually have an idea for the project that I have thought about doing for a while.”

 

Mikael takes a sip of his coffee and nods at me to go ahead.

 

“I was thinking about doing some underwater filming. Capturing the light, as it enters the surface and gets spread out. It’s kind of abstract and I haven’t really got a full plan, or picture in my head yet, but I just like the idea of light and shadows under water. Perhaps some swimmers disrupting the patterns in some way. Showing how their bodies work in the water.”

Mikael is squinting a little. Like he is trying to imagine my idea. I’m not the best at pitching ideas. But a small smile is spreading on his face, so I guess he can kind of see where I want to go. Or else he is about to laugh in my face.  _ Fuck. _ I seriously hope not.   

 

“I gotta say, Bech Næsheim, I like the way your brain works.”

 

I let out a short half laugh, half scoff. 

 

“You’ve got to be the first one, then.”

 

Mikael looks at me a bit concerned. I must have scoffed a little more than I laughed. 

 

“Why is that?”

 

I’m struggling with my answer. I could just tell him about the bipolar. I guess Magnus already knows and has a bipolar mother, so Mikael must know something about it, to not be totally freaked out. He also made a big deal about being open and not judgemental about others and things he doesn’t understand, so maybe it will be alright. I could just tell him.

 

“I have bipolar disorder. So my brain does not work very well, all the time.”

 

Mikael looks surprised. Not disgusted, freaked out or in anyway hostile. But I still don’t say anymore. I need him to react to the bare fact first. I didn’t realize how much of a character test this has become for me. It’s really important to me to see people's reaction to my diagnosis. Mikael is only the second person I have ever told like this. Out of free will. And I am curious to see, how he will react. A little scared, but surprisingly calm. I have faith in him for some reason. I want to believe in him.

 

“I’m really sorry to hear that Even. I’m sorry that you have to struggle with that. But I still like the way your brain works though, when it comes to ideas on projects, we are gonna do! So it’s not all bad right? From what I’ve seen so far, your brain is alright. I hope you can focus on that too.” 

 

“Sometimes, I guess.”

 

Mikael must sense that I’m not really that comfortable talking about it.

 

“I’m sorry, Even. If I’m saying the wrong thing?”

 

“You’re not saying the wrong thing. I guess I don’t really know, if there is a right thing to say… I have bipolar disorder. It’s a part of me. Now you know. Can we just maybe not make a big deal out of it?”

 

Mikael is smiling at me gently. Radiating empathy. Not in the pitying way I’ve seen many times before. But just. He’s there, hearing me. Its feel good to be heard, not judged.

 

“Of course, I know now, and I’m not gonna make a big deal about it. But, if there is ever something I can do for you, just let me know. Okay?”

 

He looks me straight in the eye seeking confirmation.

 

“Okay. Thanks.”

 

That seems to satisfy him, because there is mischief in his eyes now and he is smirking at me.

 

“Now, tell me more about this underwater hipster porno were doing.”

 

“Oh my God,” I laugh. “That is not what I said we were doing!”

 

The afternoon flies by and before I know it, the clock strikes six and Magnus barges in through the front door, followed closely by Mahdi carrying bags full of spicy smelling food, Jonas ranting about some debate article, he either read or has to write and last but not least Isak. My curly prince. Also carrying bags of food, listening intently to what Jonas is ranting on about. They walk past the living room and straight into the kitchen, not paying any attention to Mikael and me sitting on the couch with our laptops.

 

We hear the boys start to find plates and glasses in the kitchen and Mikael takes that as cue to stop working. He stretches his arms above his head and lets out a content sigh. 

 

“What do you say we call it a days work now? I really wanna steal some of Mahdi’s dad’s food.”

 

I shut down my laptop and get up from the couch and follow Mikael into his room, where my bags is. I pack up my stuff and pull my bag over my shoulder, getting ready to leave. When I turn towards the door, Mikael is looking at me like I’m some kind of weirdo.

 

“Where are you going? Didn’t you hear me mentioning pappa Dissi’s food? Put that bag down.”

 

“You want me to stay?”, I ask a little stupidly. I hate how insecure I get out of nowhere.

 

“Of course, I want you to stay. If you leave I have to deal with Magnus, and probably Isak too, if he finds out that you were here and I let you go. And I really wanna play FIFA and eat that spicy heavenly food. So no, you are not leaving.”

 

Suddenly, something is dawning on me.

 

“Did Magnus tell you to bring me here today?”

 

At that Mikael just smiles triumphantly at me and wriggles his eyebrows. 

 

“Took you long, enough.”

 

I laugh at him, because of course Magnus was serious in his texts this morning.  _ Damn _ . 

I start to make my way back into the living room, but stop in the doorway. Because there, on the couch is Isak. Looking directly at me, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink, as he smiles at me.

 

Mikael is about to walk into the room, but I stop him with a hand on his chest. 

 

“You know that thing we talked about earlier. Can we please keep that between us?”

 

Mikael’s brows furrow, but he still says, “Sure, whatever you want. But, I’m sorry if this is a stupid thing to ask, why is it a secret? Magnus mom is…”

 

“Magnus knows.”

 

“Oh. Okay. But you don’t want the others to know?”

 

“No.”

 

Mikael must sense how uncomfortable I am, because he seeks my eyes and puts a hand on my shoulder. 

 

“Hey. It’s okay Even. You get to decide what people know about you and when. It’s alright. What I meant was just, that, they won’t care. Well, they will care. But not in a bad way. They won’t judge you.”

 

I hope Mikael is right. But I’m just not ready. I want to be normal Even, for another night. I don’t want Isak to think about me being bipolar and what that means. I just want him to look at me, the way he is now. Sitting on the couch between Mahdi and Jonas, who are arguing over, where to place the food and plates on the sofa table. He isn’t listening to them it seems, even though they are talking in front of him, reaching for things in each others hands. 

 

Isak is just looking at me, smiling. Like he can’t believe I’m here. Then he makes a small gesture with his head, inviting me to come sit next to him. I’m a little hesitant, as he is already wedged in between Jonas and Mahdi. He seems to realize this for the first time himself and starts pushing Jonas off the couch, telling him to sit somewhere else. It’s quite the sight. Jonas looking totally oblivious to why Isak would push him away like that, saying “what the fuck, Isabel?” and Isak answering him with a determined stare, eyes widening a bit. 

 

Jonas and Isak must have a lot of these silent conversations, because Jonas just sighs and gives up his spot on the couch with a: ”Seriously, not even  _ I _ was this pathetic when I was with Eva.”, which earns him a death glare from Isak.

 

I smile fondly at their interaction. It must be nice to have a friend like Jonas. 

 

Mikael gives me a little push that finally sends me walking towards Isak. He moves over a little more, to make room for me on the couch, as I approach. I can’t help the giddy smile splitting my face in two as a sit down next to him. His hand finds my knee immediately and gives it a squeeze. 

 

“Halla.”

 

I put my hand on top of his and squeezes back.

 

“Halla, you too.” 


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sweet readers. Are you still here? I hope you had a nice summer. I have not written anything for months, and it's just become harder and harder for each week passing by to get started again. So today I powered through! I hope you like it. And I hope I can get my writing mojo back soon. I really want to write this story!!

Isak has his hand on my knee. Last night he held my hand. And my mind can’t stop imagining him touching me everywhere else. I’m getting myself worked up pretty bad -  _ as if I wasn’t already hot all over for Isak. _

 

Magnus, Mikael, Mahdi and Jonas are squeezed together on the actually quite large sofa, talking as if the world hasn’t been tipped off its axis. They fight good naturedly over the deliciously smelling food on the table and don’t seem to pay much attention to Isak and me at the end of the sofa. 

 

My ribs are digging into the armrest on one side and the other is plastered against Isaks arm. At the end of that arm is a strong hand that is currently softly stroking my thigh just above my knee. I can’t stop looking at his fingers. The way they repeatedly and slowly bend and stretch, just to stop sometimes to allow Isak’s index finger to paint circles on my knee. And then he repeats the seance. Over and over. I’m pretty hypnotized. 

 

I have no idea how long I’ve been staring at Isak’s fingers caressing my knee, when he snaps me out of it by leaning imposible closer to ask me, “what do want?”

 

I look at him with what I can only imagine is a dreamy look and before I can stop the words escaping my lips, I whisper, “everything...”

 

That was probably a little,  _ A LITTLE, EVEN?! _ , out of context, because Isak is scrunching his nose up in adorable confusion. Luckily, it’s replaced pretty quickly by a crooked accepting smile as he turns to Mahdi and says, “just give him a little bit of everything, yeah?”

 

And that’s when I realize that Isak was asking me what I wanted to eat, because Mahdi had probably asked me a few times without getting an answer, because I was too busy gawking at Isak’s strong hands. 

 

I look at Mahdi and he gives me a questioning look, with a small disbelieving but teasing smile, “you're sure you want everything? Even the chili? It’s spicy bro. Proper spicy.”

I let out a small laugh and shake my head a little to clear my mind. 

 

“Sure, Mahdi. Always chili.”

 

He throws me a million dollar smile and scoops up some kind of stew into a bowl that he hands me.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

I get a piece of bread and a small plate filled with rice, mango and other small separate dishes that look mouth wateringly good.

 

I am so distracted by all the delicious smelling food coming my way that I only notice now that Isak has removed his hand from my thigh. Mahdi is pouring some kind of meat ball sauce onto a plate with rice and handing it to him. I guess he does need two hands to eat, so I guess I can’t really blame him for robbing my skin from his touch. Although I kind of do. Well, not blame him. He shouldn’t touch me if he doesn’t want to, but it was really nice and I kind of want him to do it all the time. Or I could just touch him… if he wants me to. 

 

However, my hands are pretty full of all the damn food I ordered for myself because I was yet again under Isak’s spell, so I have no free hands to do so. 

 

As if Isak was somehow reading my mind, he takes the chili bowl from my hand and puts it onto the small table in front of us and hands me a fork to get started on my small buffet platter. I accept it with a grateful smile. I bump my shoulder into his a little because I need to feel him. 

 

“Thanks”

 

He bumps back, playfully.

 

“You’re welcome. Now dig in. Those bastards at the other end of the sofa won’t leave anything at the bottom of those containers, so if you like something and want a second scoop you have to be an aggressive predator.”

 

I love playful Isak -  _ everything Isak. _ And I can feel myself getting a little brave in his presence.

 

“So you’re saying that if I want something I should just go for it?”

 

I raise my eyebrows at him in challenge and I can see his neck turning pink as he turns his gaze towards plate, biting his tongue against his bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that is fighting its way onto his face.

 

He keeps his eyes on his plate, on the table and starts picking at his meat balls with his fork. At some point he stops fighting the smile and catches my eyes for a second before he looks away again. Then he answers with a short, but clear “yup”, really popping the p and starts eating his food.  

 

I hold my plate in one hand and start digging in with the fork in my other. Isak of course is much smarter than me and grants me my wish without me even having to verbalize it. He lets his plate stay on the table and uses only his fork for cutting up the meat balls and directing the pieces to his mouth. The brilliance in this action, however risky it is transporting rice, sauce and meat from the plate on the table to his mouth crossing both his light jeans and T-shirt, allows his other hand to return to its home, just above my knee. I can’t stop smiling. I think the food actually tastes better now - it was amazing to begin with - that Isak’s fingers are drawing wide circles on my skin again. 

 

The talk is running free while we eat and even I feel comfortable and welcome enough to join in on the banter and give my opinions on stuff when I have one. I’m surprised that the guys are teasing me and Isak more. They don’t really seem to find it odd or awkward in any way that Isak’s hand never leaves my thigh. The only time it’s brought up, kind of, is  when Magnus spreads a napkin out in Isak’s lap and another over his chest, fastening it by tugging one corner into the collar of his T-shirt. Isak don’t seem to want to give up his fork or my thigh -  _ mental dorky victory fist thrown in the air _ -  so instead of swatting Magnus away, he just makes and indignated adorable squawk as to question and protest to what the hell Magnus is doing. 

 

Magnus just wriggles his eyebrows playfully before he spreads out a third napkin on the floor between the table and Isak’s feet. 

 

“If you’re gonna prioritize holding Even’s hand, which I totally get by the way, the least you can do is fucking watch out for your clothes and our rug.”

 

That comment brings the delightful pink color on Isak’s neck back.

 

“I’m not going to spill anything, Mags! And when did you start caring about that stupid rug anyway? I saw you spilling yoghurt on it one day and you didn’t even clean it with water or soap, just dried it tissue paper…”

 

“Alright, alright. I don’t give a shit about my rug or your btw  _ pretty see-through _ white T shirt. But I sent my mom a picture of you and she told me to do it.”

 

Isak and I both looked at his T-shirt at the same time, when Magnus commented on it being see-through  _ and what do you know…  _ I could actually see a pink taint in the areas where his nipples are. I looked on reflex and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks when Isak caught me staring. 

 

“Stop taking pictures of me and sending them to your mom, Mags! What the fuck?”

 

“Oh come on Isak, if you want the perks you have to engage a little. She just asked how you were and I thought it would be easier to just show her. I didn’t know how to describe that smitten, cozy situation you’ve got going on over there, so I just sent her a picture.”

 

My mind is trying to come up with a non-embarrassing way to ask Magnus for that photo. Not now. I’m not  _ that _ desperate to have a photo of me and Isak together… Well, I am a little bit. But I really don’t have a desire to throw anymore public light on me and Isak all, what did Magnus say, smitten and cozy looking. I want that to be just ours. 

 

I really have to figure out a way to get Isak on my own some day soon. His friends are nice and fun, but I wanna talk to him when there is no one else around. I wanna pick his brain, get to know him, make him laugh, make him smile, make him moan.  _ Shit, not this again. _ I can’t really help my thoughts heading that way as Isak’s hand has started to climb higher and is now softly clenching the meaty middle part of my thigh, as he tries to argue his case against Magnus.

 

Isak seems to have gotten somewhat control of the situation, because Magnus looks a little deflated and surrendered. He rolls his eyes at Isak and checks an incoming message on his phone. Then he shakes his head in disbelief and smiles at Isak and me. 

 

“My mom insists on me telling you, Hi, even though I told her you weren’t grateful for her love and care.”

 

That makes Isak laugh delightedly. 

 

“That woman is seriously my biggest fan. Tell her, hi back, and that I would gladly receive any love and care she has in store for me, just not through you.”

 

Magnus scoffs and rolls his eyes at him again. Then he looks at me with a soft smile.

 

“She says hi to you too Even. And says that if you ever wanna come by, you’re more than welcome. She would love to meet you.”

 

The rest of the night is spent being curled up in the sofa next to Isak, his arm draped across the backrest behind my shoulders, talking quietly just the two of us, about school, swimming and other everyday things. 

 

Sometimes when there is a natural pause in the conversation or the other guys on the sofa,  _ that I often forget are there _ , yell at each other or the screen over the FIFA game they’re playing, Isak and I join in the banter. But we pretty quickly retreat to our own private bubble gain, where Isak’s fingers start playing with the hair at my neck and my face probably looks like the heart eyes emoji. 

 

It’s never quiet between us in an awkward way. It’s just nice. Intimate. And I’m loving every second of it.


End file.
